


I Dare You To Stay

by realityfallsapart



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aphobia, Asexual Dan Howell, Coming Out, Concussions, Depression, Fluff, I'll probs add more tags as I go so check in mates, Internalized Aphobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, More Fluff, Phil Lester Is A Sweetheart, Slow Burn, Supportive Phil, Therapists, a month without uploading she comes back with more fluff, being kicked out, cursing, dan is a barista, jokes and bants, no youtube au, phil is a weatherman, talk of mental health, unsupportive parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-03 22:31:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 64,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14006241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityfallsapart/pseuds/realityfallsapart
Summary: "Thank you, come again," Dan said robotically, a fake smile plastered on his features. When the customer turned away, their coffee nestled in the palm of their hand, Dan let the facade fall. God, he was exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally, everything. He just wanted to go the fuck home.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco's to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This fic was inspired at roughly 4AM in the morning a few weeks ago, after I ended up sending a meme about it to my best friend (Hannah, I'm sorry lmao) and I'm finally posting it! It's chaptered, and I will be sticking to an update schedule of every three to four days.
> 
> Thank you my lovely beta Nathan, for cleaning up my mess
> 
> Enjoy!

"Thank you, come again," Dan said robotically, a fake smile plastered on his features. When the customer turned away, their coffee nestled in the palm of their hand, Dan let the facade fall. God, he was exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally, everything. He just wanted to go the fuck home.

Dan scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to absorb the caffeine permeating the air through some kind of osmosis. Was this shitty coffee barista job really worth his bills?

Blearily, Dan glanced at the clock. He would get out in roughly twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of hell. Then he can go back to his flat.

Another customer came up to the counter, a sour look on his face and a scowl that just screamed middle-aged-balding-man. Dan didn't even try to put up some kind of smile.

The man was an arse, one of those people that was constantly having a bad day and couldn't distance themselves enough from their problems to stop taking it out on other people, and Dan could successfully say that, internally, this man made Dan yet again question if this job was _really_ worth it. God, Dan would _kill_ for a different job. But apparently no one was hiring and satan could fuck Dan personally and he would _still_ refuse to go back to his parents and ask for help (assuming that they'd even speak to him again), so it looked like he was stuck.

Walking away with his new coffee, the man kept grumbling to himself about "young people nowadays" and Dan was more than glad to be rid of him. If he had to talk to one more entitled ass today he might just go insane.

"Wow, Dan, you really have a way with the customers. I'm jealous," a voice said behind him, a hand much smaller than his own falling on his shoulder. Dan tried not to cringe outwardly, but he wasn't sure if he succeeded.

It was his supervisor and close friend, Jaime. Ordinarily, she was more than cool enough, holding the title as Dan's closest friend. She was a few years older than Dan and a bit of a drama queen, but she had beautifully dyed bright red hair and let Dan slack off when things seemed pretty rough for him. Not to mention that she was a good person and cared for Dan a lot, just like he did her. She had even pressured Steve into snorting a line of coffee grounds more than once. And god, if anyone can make someone as infuriating and blatantly hateful as Steve humiliate himself, they were permanently a-okay in Dan's book. However, Dan was in the mood for precisely nothing at the moment, not even talking with his favorite coworker and friend.

So in response, Dan just shrugged, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He hoped Jaime got the message. She was normally pretty good at picking up on Dan's moods.

The chime on top of the shop's door sounded, alerting the small store of someone else entering. Dan didn't look over, but Jaime did, and she whistled, just low enough for only the two of them to hear, but not anyone else. Dan cursed. There goes his hope for her leaving him alone for the remainder of his shift.

"Dan, look at this guy, he's _hot,_ " she breathed, giving Dan's arm a little squeeze. "Would you mind if I took this one?"

Glad that he wouldn't have to interact with this guy, he nodded, slipping out of her loose grasp and backing up, taking her spot at the bar with the coffee machines. He grabbed one of the grimy cloths that always seemed to be around when he was looking for one and stepped away from the counter, making his way to the self-serve station where extra sugar and all sorts of other things were held in easy reach for the customers. He started to wipe it down half-heartedly, knowing full well that Jaime cleaned this exact counter less than half an hour ago, and it was practically spotless. He just didn't want to have any part in the serving of this customer.

He just wanted to go home.

Dan heard all of Jaime's flirting, and frowned at her innuendo, a weird albeit familiar sensation wiggling its way into Dan's chest. He continued to clean, ignoring it. More conversation, _ooh fuck, the guy made an innuendo back,_ Dan thought, the feeling in his chest increasing, leaving a frown on his face. Did he need to hear this? No, not really, but if he were literally anyone else it wouldn't actually bother him.

That thought made Dan frown harder, that unnamed emotion turning into a hard lump in his ribcage. He didn't need yet another reminder that he was always going to have something wrong with him, unnatural to the rest of humanity.

Apparently, the conversation was over and this guy had his coffee, because Dan could hear footsteps approaching in his direction. _Time to leave,_ Dan thought, acting like he was finishing up and walking back to the counter. He didn't look at the guy, not really caring. When he was back at the register, Jaime practically flew herself to his side, a victorious undertone in her voice.

"Guess who's gettin' _laid,_ " she said in a sing-song voice, waving a small slip of paper that Dan had no doubts held the guy's number. Dan tried to hide his discomfort behind a poorly-executed snort. Would it be rude if he said that he really didn't care? Like, Dan could care less what people do together just as long as it didn't involve him in any way.

"Oh shush, as if you wouldn't have gone after him too, just _look_ at that ass."

 _Well, Jaime, the thing is that I_ wouldn't _have gone after him, actually, and especially not for his ass,_ was what ran through Dan's head, but to appease her, he flicked his eyes up to the guy stirring his drink. He was tall, platinum blond, and sporting a lithe and athletic figure with a pleasing-to-look-at face. He was attractive, Dan would give her that much.

The thing was, this guy was pretty much the opposite type of attraction to Dan than he was to Jaime.

Jaime looked at Dan, as if she was waiting for an answer. Knowing her, she was. Dan shrugged helplessly. He didn't know what to say; he was bad at pretending how he felt. She sighed, but it was like a cut to Dan's heart even though he knew that it lacked both malice and annoyance. It didn't matter, though, his thoughts were already running away with him at this point.

She was still looking at him, obviously hoping that he would look at her, but Dan wasn't looking up from his shoes. He wasn't going to be doing much of anything, actually, because there was a massive lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow past and if he didn't get himself under control fast he'd have to start blinking away tears.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid...so fucking stupid you can't even_ act _like you're normal._

Dan flicked his eyes up to the clock. It was close to the end of his shift, five o'clock only being a handful of minutes away at this point. He turned to Jaime a little, but didn't meet her eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Jaime," Dan said, hating how his voice wobbled noticeably, how the lump was choking him at this point. He wasn't going to cry. He _wasn't._

Jaime didn't stop him from leaving even though Dan just _knew_ she wanted to, and Dan didn't turn back, even though he could feel her eyes on him, practically piercing through his spine. He hung up his apron and shrugged on his coat that was hanging next to the door leading out of the employee's small lounge. His fingers fumbled with the buttons but his feet were on autopilot, taking him outside, the rush of frigid air hitting him dead-on. Dan shivered. It wasn't supposed to be this cold this early in the year yet. Dan was supposed to have at least another month of moderate temperatures.

But apparently not.

The sky was overcast, and Dan couldn't even bring himself to remark at how cliche that was—the weather matching his feelings. Instead he just drew up the collar on his coat and hunched his shoulders further than they already were.

Visibly, he was most likely looking as if he had had a decently enough bad day and just wanted to get home like everyone else. Which, to a degree, was right—he _did_ just want to get home to mope in peace. However, of course things were deeper than they seemed. Internally, he was sinking deeper and deeper into a hole that had swallowed him before.

The best news was that the depression hadn't settled in completely.

When Dan had awoken earlier today, he could tell that while it might not end up a _bad_ day, per se, but it would definitely be far from fantabulous. Upon trudging on his way to work, he was already resigned to knowing that his mood would only decrease throughout the day. And it hadn't failed, he _was_ worse than he had been this morning. But there was no rest for the wicked, and as Dan could feel the last dregs of his mental reserves fading, that customer had walked in and then Jaime noticed and there was all of the _flirting_ and _innuendos._

Normally, this wouldn't bother Dan. Normally, he'd just roll his eyes in mock annoyance and whisper to her _"try not to act too thirsty, there, Jaime,"_ as he walked away to leave her to her flirting, earning a swat from her on the arm and a scowl. Dan would normally laugh, at the very least snicker.

However, today was not a normality, and with his already too-loud thoughts, the innuendos Jamie and the customer had exchanged cut deep into Dan's side, at a wound he had had for almost longer than he could remember at this point. It had certainly been years.

Dan just felt...empty.

And it was different from the usual emptiness that consumed him, the kind that felt like a vacuum had opened up inside of his chest, sucking everything he was away and leaving a husk of a person that couldn't even get out of bed on those days. No, this was a breed of numbness that was simultaneously heavier than the world itself and louder than every single rational thought that even tried to make itself known. The kind where it was easy to feel your heart breaking and the wells of tears behind your eyes, but you couldn't cry, partly because it felt as if you physically couldn't, but also partly because if you opened the dam, everything would come spilling out and you wouldn't be able to put the pieces together just like they had been before. It was the kind that made you feel outside the sphere of humanity. Still familiar, just different.

And oh jesus did it _hurt._

It hurt because it was yet another reminder that Dan didn't need that he was different from the rest of the world. He didn't need another one, really. They had been stacking up ever since he was fifteen and he had lost count by now.

It had taken a while for Dan to realize that there was something wrong with him.

A switch in his head that had never been turned on.

Yet another flaw in his miserable human existence.

And yes, there were quite a _lot_ of  flaws in his existence, but this one was something that he didn't even know was a flaw, because he didn't know that it could exist. Or, more accurately, he didn't know that it _couldn't_ exist.

Dan went the first part of his life blissfully ignorant about the matter, and even mostly past puberty, rolling what was happening (or _not happening_ to him, he should say) into the label that he was just a "late-bloomer".

However, it didn't last. When Dan was seventeen, he was starting to become increasingly aware at how his view of the world was apparently different than everyone else. Via people in his grade and the internet, Dan started to see something very, very wrong with him.

No one was sexy.

No one.

At all.

Ever.

At first, Dan had just laughed it off. Sure, "no one" was sexy. Yeah right. Impossible. But then, as weeks passed after Dan's unusual self-discovery, he became increasingly more and more anxious. He had scrolled through countless pictures of every type of person that there is. Nothing. Dan ended up trying porn. Not a thing. And as embarrassing as it was, he had even tried to masturbate to every scenario that he could think of one night, and it had done nothing but leave him frustrated and having to deal with a very dark feeling in his chest.

God, what was _wrong_ with him?

He went through a sexuality crisis then, thinking that maybe his problem was that he wasn't attracted to women, and even tried to convince himself that he was gay, completely ignoring the fact that he had thought that Lindsey Johnson, his lab partner in Chemistry, was undeniably cute as hell.

Dan ended up trying all of the "tests" he had given himself earlier, but instead of women, he looked, watched, and imagined guys. Nothing. Fucking again.

The depressive episode that had come directly after that failure was particularly brutal, leaving Dan bedridden for literal days. He was incapacitated for nearly over a week by the time he was able to become even somewhat of a functional member of society.

Even after things were mostly over, he was still in the middle of a crisis. He was still abnormal.

After more heavy thought and sleepless nights, Dan ended up settling on the notion that he was, in fact, gay. He liked the idea of possibly being with a guy romantically better than he liked that of a girl, so Dan's teenaged self took it for more than it was worth and decided that it made more sense than him being straight.

(And did Dan acknowledge that, yes, he might like to date a guy, but sex with one was just as blah as he would think it would be with a girl? No, no he didn't. He did his damnedest to ignore it)

Of course, that new label that he decided to slap on himself caused a whole other list of problems.

He spent months trying to come to terms with it, trying to learn to say _"yes, this is me"_ and actually mean it. His self-hatred and depression spiked dramatically, as did his stress with university, stuck in a major that he didn't like, living with his parents and his days blurring together into one big fog of grey.

Eventually, years later, he came upon a tumblr post talking about sexualities. Dan wasn't very interested because his dashboard was his where he let himself indulge in his nerdiness, and sexuality did not fit that memo. Besides, his _own_ sexuality was a sore spot for him; he didn't need to read about it when he was trying to ignore things for a little with the help of the internet.

But as Dan had skimmed through as he continued scrolling, a phrase caught his eye and it was foreign enough to make Dan pause.

_"it's even okay for people to not feel sexual attraction at all!"_

Twelve words was apparently all it took to completely burn out every single one of Dan's brain cells because his mind had just gone blank. He ended up desperately scrolling up to read the post from the beginning, and heart beating furiously, he sat back when he reached the bottom.

Dan had felt hollowed out, like he wasn't sure what was up and what was down. He googled, _no sexual attraction,_ and up came results immediately, every single one of them having at least one thing in common. The word, "asexual".

To tell a long story short, Dan received no sleep that night, scouring countless websites and articles, searching up definitions and reading stories. And long after the sun had once again risen, when Dan was still curled up in his position in bed, he cried. He cried long and hard, because he had spent years thinking that he was just completely and utterly alone in this experience of his, but there were _other people going through it. He wasn't alone._

By the end of that day, he had a new identity, a new word, a new label—this one fitting so much better than the last.

Asexual.

Feeling no sexual attraction to any gender.

That was him.

And of course, things didn't magically fix themselves for Dan. In fact, even though he ended up finding a way to describe himself, things only got worse. He still didn't come out, deciding to just stay with "gay" and be done with it to avoid having to explain his identity to everyone he tried to come out to. His sexuality was still his kryptonite. He was still insecure, still hated how different he was, how he couldn't feel something that nearly everyone else in the history of humanity could.

Defining himself had simultaneously brought him back together and blown him back apart.

He tried to not let it get him down too much, he tried to love that part of himself that backed away from sex with both hands raised, he tried, honestly, but on days like today when there was a numbness in his bones, he felt especially ostracized from the rest of humanity.

So it didn't really surprise him when he felt the tell-tale drip of a few tears fall down his face. It was more of a relief than anything. If he started to cry, then it would be a lot sooner he would fall asleep from exhaustion.

Dan scrubbed his face, trying to dash away tears before too many passer-bys would notice. He quickened his pace and cursed himself for deciding to not take the tube today in favor of walking home like his angsty ass wanted.

His head was down and he was watching his feet take strides below him. It began to drizzle, little droplets of water splattering onto the sidewalk here or there. It wasn't much, but he had been living in Manchester long enough to know that it would soon pick up.

Did he want to call a cab? He could probably get one, they usually weren't too busy at this time of day. The question was if Dan could spare the money. Counting in his already shitty wage and the very likely possibility that tomorrow he wouldn't be able to get out of bed—thanks, Mounting DepressionTM—it didn't seem likely. He liked having the money to eat, thank you very much.

Dan turned a corner, not really paying attention, his feet knowing _exactly_ how to get back to his shitty flat. His eyes were still down and he was still thinking, staving off the depression and the worst of the self-loathing until he could be behind the safety of his own four walls.

Dan collided with something, gasping as he got pushed back, falling. He groaned, shutting his eyes as he cracked the back of his head painfully on the ground. Instinctively, Dan rolled onto his side and curled up, a hand flying to the back of his head, but whimpering at the tiny touch sending a shock wave of agony through him, sharp enough to cut. Luckily, he didn't feel any blood.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going and I walked right into you and oh my god are you _okay?_ " a foreign voice asked, sounding completely frantic. Dan breathed through his gritted teeth, not responding.

Dimly, Dan heard what sounded like the dropping of a box, or some sort of package, and then there was a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay?"

This time, the voice was much lower, and Dan's now splitting headache appreciated it greatly. He cracked his eyes open, very nearly moaning out in misery at the wave of nausea that washed over him. Okay. Wonderful.

The man crouched over him was frowning, looking very concerned. Dan wasn't sure what to do. Lie there on the pavement for the rest of eternity seemed like a good option.

"Here, let me help you," the man said, his voice still soft. He slid an arm under Dan's shoulders and Dan finally got what this guy was going for: he was trying to help Dan up. Dan tried to help him, but things were a bit fuzzy at the edges. When Dan was finally sitting upright the man stopped pushing him up, but his kept his arm where it was. Dan was close to limp. Sitting up had been enough. No more movement right now, come again later.

A soft hand tentatively pressed against the side of Dan's head, feeling around his skull gently. Dan didn't really give a reaction, but when the man moved his fingers to the back of Dan's head, Dan couldn't help it—he cried out in pain and pulled away. He didn't get very far however, the man's grip loose but strong. He removed his fingers immediately.

"Shh, it's okay. You've got quite the bump; I'm sure it hurts like crazy. Right now though," the man trailed off, his hand that had just been combing through Dan's hair finding itself on the side of Dan's face, tilting his jaw this way and that, looking closely at him. His hands were warm. Dan suddenly became aware of how utterly _blue_ his eyes were.

"How do you feel? Dizzy? Tired?"

"Uh, yeah," Dan said, his voice sounding a little off, "I'm dizzy. A little fuzzy. My head hurts. A lot." He seemed unable to form sentences more than a few words long.

"Do you feel nauseous?"

Dan frowned, feeling his eyebrows draw together.

"Yeah. A little."

The palm on his cheek disappeared, just to come right back in front of his face.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Four."

"Now?"

"One."

"How about now?"

"Five."

"Okay," the man sighed as if in relief, "that's at least some good news. However, I think you've got a concussion."

Dan just blinked. A concussion. Oh.

"Do you need me to take you somewhere? To the hospital?"

Dan thought for a moment, staring up at the stranger who he had walked into. He was pretty. He had nice eyes. You could go swimming in those eyes.

The man snapped his fingers, and the action startled Dan, pulling him straight out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"Yeah, you definitely have a concussion. I asked if you needed me to take you somewhere to get checked out."  
"No, no, m'fine, I just need to get home and sleep. For like a day. Or two. Or seven." Dan looked past the man's shoulder, looking at his surroundings. He was almost back at his place. Just about two blocks away, really. Dan moved to get up, and the man immediately sprang into action, helping Dan stand on unsteady feet.

"Are you sure? Concussions can be serious. Why don't you go get checked out, yeah? I'll even take you. How's that sound?"

"No, I'm okay. I just got to get home." Dan repeated.

"Okay..." the man said, drawing out the word. He was frowning. "Do you have someone at home then? To watch over you? Or can you call someone? You shouldn't be alone with a concussion."

Dan shook his head, and regretted it instantaneously, almost falling over if it hadn't been for this stranger catching him as he got hit with a wave of dizziness.

"Ah, no. Jaime's still at work. She can't talk." Dan managed, his vision was starting to become clearer and the fog over his head was a little less thick, it seemed. And _ow, his head fucking_ **_hurt._ ** "It's okay, 'm almost there."

The man was still frowning.

"How far away do you live from here?"

"Uh....two blocks? Like, right up there," Dan said, pointing because why fucking _not._

"Okay, would it be alright if I walk you home then? Just so I can be sure you get there okay? Please?"

Dan turned and looked at the stranger, sure that his confusion was showing. Why would this guy want to walk Dan home? Didn't he have something more important to be doing than walking Dan back to his flat? Right? Maybe? Dan started to space out again, but with another snap via the stranger, he was able to nod.

"Sure, I guess. Why not."

The man breathed in palpable relief, letting go of Dan and taking a step back, scooping up a briefcase that looked dejected and forgotten about on the sidewalk. That must have been what Dan had heard falling earlier. Maybe the guy dropped it.

Dan frowned at the loss of the stranger's arm around his shoulders. He was warm. Dan was cold.

The stranger looked back at Dan.

"Which way is home for you? This way?"

Dan didn't say anything, just cramming his hands in his pockets and taking a few steps forward in the correct direction. Dan felt like he was going to keel over and the nausea returned full force. The man followed him, but he didn't stay very far away, falling into step right by Dan's side. When Dan tripped over his own two feet however, and nearly once again went sprawling onto the ground, the man's free arm snaked around his waist, pulling Dan into the stranger's side. Dan could feel the stranger's concern. Hell, he could feel his _own_ concern. He felt and was acting drunk but had the headache and symptoms as if he was hungover. The warm palm on the small of his back wasn't helping things.

God, how touch-starved _was_ he?

Dan's head was slowly become ever so clearer even if it did feel as if his skull was compacted with cotton, like his brain just needed a few moments to reboot itself. With the returning dregs of lucidity, the throbbing of his head increased. What a fucking trade off.

It was still drizzling, and Dan could feel his hair curling. A frown graced his features.

Soon enough, Dan was stopping, standing right in front of his apartment complex, looking at the man that he had ran into. He was unconventionally handsome. Of course he was. _What kind of cliche romance novel am I living in?_ Dan thought. _Not one with a happy ending, at least,_ Dan's thought continued in grim self depreciation.

"I live here. Thanks for walking me back. I'm sorry I bumped into you." Dan said, not quite looking the stranger in the eyes. He hoped the guy understood.

The man laughed, the sound light and cheery. "Don't worry about it. Besides, I wasn't looking where I was walking either, so it's not just on you," the stranger shrugged, "I'm clumsy enough as it is on a good day. I do hope that you're head gets better soon, mate. And try to call someone, okay, if you don't want to get checked out. Brain damage and all." The stranger shrugged, and Dan could recognize that the guy didn't really know what to say now; Dan was so good at spotting social discomfort because it was one of the only emotions he felt on a regular basis.

Dan's head flared, quite nearly making his eyes water.

Time to cut this interaction short so Dan could wallow in his newfound pain in peace.

"Thanks, and I think I will," (be polite, ease his conscious) "but I think I'll be okay. I've got a pretty hard head." (add in small amounts of humor with minimum sarcasm via Dan's end) "Thanks again, sorry for running into you. Have a nice night." (apologize, be courteous, end the conversation nicely, close the curtains and exit stage left) (Dan could write a book on how to weasel his way out of social interaction).

Dan gave the stranger a small smile and a little wave (which he mentally berated his awkwardness for a millisecond later). The man smiled back, brilliantly. Jeez, he was like a radiating sun.

"You too, have a good night."

Dan took the social cue and practically ran with it, turning around and stumbling his way to the front door of the group of flats. He tried to not embarrass himself any further, but walking was suddenly a lot harder without a supporting hand on his back.

He managed to buzz himself in, though, and push the ringing in his head back enough to grab the railing to the stairs. He only looked back once. The stranger was turning around, back the way that he and Dan had just come. He still had a smile on his face.

Only tripping twice, Dan managed to climb the stairs to his flat and let himself in, falling back on the door when he closed it, feeling thoroughly exhausted. He slid his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. Was it too early to sleep? Did he really need to stay up until 4AM like normal?

Dan had several texts from Jaime and even one missed call, but he didn't read them, ignoring them for now and just typing out a text to her, calling out for tomorrow. Dan's depression was unbelievably close to crashing over him full force, and with his _splitting_ head and possible concussion on top of it all, he really didn't have the emotional capacity to try and find a way to explain why he had been such an ass all day to Jaime, even if she more than deserved it.

 

**> >To: my maraschino cherry**

_not coming to work tmrw. head hurts. possible concussion. ttyl_

 

Faintly, he smiled a little at her contact name. It was a running joke between them based on her dyed hair. Dan remembered when he first called her that, one stormy day when it was just the two of them manning the store.

Dan clicked the screen off and took a deep breath. He needed to get up. He also needed to shower and eat something, if possible. He was going to be out of commission tomorrow, cleaning himself for the second time today now would save himself later. So would eating something.

It was twenty minutes later when he managed to pick himself up off of the floor, and he was still as dizzy standing as before. Tomorrow was going to be fun. Yay.

Dan shuffled his way to the bathroom, turning the water on to steaming and stripping himself of his clothes before stepping into the stream. It was overly hot, but grounding. He leaned on the tile, closing his eyes and letting the water wash over him. He was _so tired._

He had thought that he had been exhausted before, but now it seemed magnified, like his entire body was sagging down into itself, not even able to hold him up anymore. Dan didn't feel like giving himself a second head injury in the span of a hour today with the danger of passing out (because _that's_ how tired he was) so Dan ended up sitting down, washing himself like that. And if he sat there, basking in the hot water a little longer than what was probably good for his water bills, then no one had to know.

To avoid falling asleep in the shower, however, Dan reluctantly turned the water off. This time it was slightly easier to pull himself from a sitting position, but that was due the water on his skin turning cold, making goosebumps raise up. He shivered as he dried himself off and slipped on a pair of boxers.

Dan had had every intention of eating something after his shower while he could, but he found himself in his pants, sitting on his bed, eyes drooping and hair dripping water down his bare back, and he suddenly couldn't get up anymore. His legs wouldn't move. His will was gone.

Dan laid down, curling up into a ball and tucking his legs up close to his chest, his duvet pulled up to his chin. Dan closed his eyes, his head pounding enough for his eyeballs themselves to hurt, chest feeling painfully empty.

Dan let himself sink, surrendering himself to the demons in his head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you like this chapter! The third one will be up in the same amount of time - about three or four days!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> -a

Three days later, Dan was walking down the street, uniform on and not too far from the front door of his flat. 

He already wanted to go back inside.

The first day had been the worst. Dan hadn't eaten, hadn't showered, hadn't even gotten out of bed. He hadn't had anywhere to be besides work, and with him texting Jaime the night before that he wasn't going to be coming in, he was off the hook as well from that societal obligation. 

Not that he would have been able to even get there if he hadn't.

Dan had awoken deep into that well of darkness that he knew so well that morning. And he had known, could feel it that night before, that upon the lifting of his eyelids nothing was going to get done. And he was right. 

The whole day was a blur really, an unidentified mass of time that consisted of nothing but Dan's rapid thoughts and crushing numbness. 

The second day was better, if only slightly. He had dug himself out from under the weight of depression enough for him to choke down a piece of toast. He had even had a few sips of water, ending up taking the nearly-still-full glass back with him to his bedroom. The glass found itself on his nightstand, and Dan back under the comfort of his duvet. He slept some, exhausted beyond belief. By the end of the day Dan had sipped from the glass a few more times, and he even got himself up a few hours after the sun had gone down to struggle through a few crisps.

This morning, Dan was better than he had been, though he still wasn't perfect. It had still taken him close to half an hour to manage to stand and exit his cocoon of warmth. He had still been overly weak and undermotivated. He had still just stood there in the shower for an undefined amount of time, staring off into space, the water streaming down his naked body. The shower brought some feeling back into his fingers, which had (predictably) become frigid like the rest of his body with the most recent depressive episode that Dan was working through. He had also ended up crying. Sobbing, in fact, big hiccuping breaths and choking on his own tears, curled up in a ball on the floor of the tub, knees hugged to his chest and his arms desperate for purchase on his own body so he could hold himself together, releasing all of the emotions that he had lacked in the past few days, all of the anguish and sorrow and  _ numb _ . The crying was the most productive thing he had actually done all day, and suspected that he probably  _ will  _ do all day. 

But Dan was resigned to that. If he had cried, then he knew that he was almost out of under his depression's shadow. He was almost out of the lion's den. 

Dan brought himself out of his head when he turned down a corner, one that was particularly more striking than normal. Dan's head throbbed as if his concussion remembered the incident with a pretty stranger well, too. His grimace of dull pain was partially hidden by his face turned to the ground. He should probably look up, seeing that walking like this was what got him a splitting headache in the first place. Well. He  _ should.  _ Just like he  _ should have  _ done a lot of things. Oops.

Dan's head hasn't gotten much better. Maybe a tad less throb-y. Maybe. He hoped that Jaime would go easy on him; it already felt like his brain was seconds away from melting out of his ears.

It probably didn't help that he had been out of commission and unable to take care of himself at all. 

Add that to Dan's list of "oops".

Just like the last time that he had taken this path, Dan let his thoughts wander and trusted his muscle memory to take him to the little coffee shop he worked at. He didn't even fully comprehend that he was opening the glass door and stepping inside, only vaguely registering the rush of warmth and the scent of coffee,  _ that  _ was how deep he was in his head. 

_ "Daniel James Howell I swear to  _ **_god_ ** _ , I'm going to kill you"  _ a stern voice boomed. Dan had just enough time to look up to see Jaime  _ vault _ the countertop before she was crashing into him, wrapping his entire body in a giant hug. Dan didn't know how she did it; she was so much smaller than his own giant frame. 

She already smelled like a latte even if Dan knew that she would have only been here for less than half an hour at this point. The store hadn't even opened yet. 

Dan wrapped his arms around her too, not even trying to be discreet at how he melted into her embrace, soaking up all of the contact. 

It had been a lonely few days. 

"Dan, look, I know that you struggle with stuff, I  _ know,  _ but Dan I'm your best friend and if you ever disappear off the face of the Earth again I will personally  _ strangle  _ you.  _ Never  _ do that again, _ please."  _ she said, and with her on her tiptoes, the words were spoken right next to Dan's ear. He swallowed abruptly, a sudden lump forming. He knew that Jaime cared for him, but hearing just how much always fucked with him. Especially after such an emotionally draining past few days. He felt that if he tried to talk his words would come out distorted and shaky. 

So Dan didn't say anything, just pulled Jaime closer, burying his head into her hair. 

She didn't say anything about how she could have easily found him in his flat. She already knew that he didn't want her to help him. 

She didn't say anything about how Dan had been ignoring her texts and calls. She already knew why.

She didn't say anything, for that matter, just hugging all of Dan's frayed pieces back together. She already knew that that was what he really needed. 

They pulled away, slowly, but with smiles on their faces. Jaime looked behind her, frowning, muttering something to herself about "telling him to leave" and then she was shouting to the back of the store:

"Steve! You're off today! Go home!"

Dan's heart seized a little, admittingly at the mention of Steve. He was working today? No, hell no, there was no way that Dan would be able to handle Steve's blatant hate for him on top of recovering from a depressive episode.

But wait...Jaime was telling him to go home?

Dan turned to Jaime, no doubt confusion blatant on his face, but she was facing the counter at this point and didn't see him. 

Steve emerged from the back, a brush of coffee grounds on his shirt. He first looked at Jaime, an infamous  _ "are you kidding me?"  _ on his lips, when he caught sight of Dan, and scowled.

"Are you kidding me?"  _ There it was.  _ "Why are you sending me home? You just called me this morning and asked me to fill in for  _ him.  _ Now he finally decides to show up and you tell  _ me  _ to leave?" He snapped, incredulous, eyebrows raised. Jaime glared at him fiercely. 

"Yeah, I am. Dan was supposed to work today, not you. He's here now, so he can take over the shift he was supposed to work. You can have your day off like you were supposed to."

They continued to glare at one another, a stare off unfolding right before Dan's eyes. However, Steve was no match for Jaime (in any way, really) and he backed down, nodding and walking off to collect his jacket from the employee's lounge. He was back out in no time, visibly pissed off. He stalked out of the store, pushing past Dan as he did. 

Dan, struggling as he was to handle the day already, just let it happen. He didn't want to deal with a confrontation. Scratch that, he  _ couldn't  _ deal with a confrontation. Not in this condition. 

When the door closed and Steve was gone, Jaime cursed him out, telling him to go fuck himself in her mother tongue. 

_ "Stronzo!"  _ she finished with, continuing to glare at where Steve had exited the store. "I hate him so  _ fucking  _ much. If he wasn't the owner's nephew I would have fired him from from day one! He's insufferable!" She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated and annoyed. Dan didn't say anything. He didn't really have the energy to be angry today. Besides, Jaime was the one out of the two of them with the most negative interaction with Steve. She complained religiously about him to Dan (who was more than happy to listen and partake).

Huffing, Jaime walked over to the counter and started one of the many coffee machines to get a brew going in time for when they would open. She looked back at Dan, who saw the anger fade in her eyes and her whole posture soften. 

"Dan, you look like hell warmed over. Come here; it was bad this time wasn't it?"

Dan nodded, making his way to her like she asked. She hummed her understanding. She didn't give him pity or sympathy, which he was grateful for. He didn't want to be pitied.

She stood on her tiptoes and ran a hand through his hair. 

"You washed it, feels like, but you didn't straighten it; didn't have the energy?" Her tone wasn't accusatory, just soft and gentle, trying to figure out just how little Dan had looked after himself over the past few days. Dan once again shook his head no. 

"Alright, go sit at a table, I'll be right over with two coffee's and a comb I'm almost certain I have in my bag."

Dan felt a bit like a little kid, and normally it would bother him a little, but he was still drained from the past few days and having someone take care of him felt good enough to override any ill feelings that small part of him may be having. 

Soon enough, she slid into the corner booth Dan found himself in, two coffees as promised, a comb in her pocket, and a large pastry precariously balanced on top of the lid on one of the coffees. 

"Here, one caramel macchiato, just how you like it, and your favorite pastry in our case—I'd bet every cent I have that you haven't eaten anything at least today, and you are  _ not  _ passing out on me if I have any hand in the matter. Scooch over."

So Dan sat in the booth, nursing his coffee and eating his pastry, reveling in the care Jaime was giving him, and letting the warm feelings blossom through his chest from his core out. He wasn't quite happy—it was too soon after a depressive episode for him to be happy—but he was close. And if he let a tear or two slip no one had to know. 

Jaime made quick work of Dan's distressed hair, gently pulling the wild curls apart with her fingers and working out the smaller knots with the comb. Her fingers felt good running through Dan's hair, and she knew it, knew from the countless times that this scenario had been acted out by the two of them. Dan emotionally wrung out after sometimes days of hell and Jaime applying the bandages he received after his most recent battle. 

When she was done, she handed him her phone so he could look at his reflection on the dark screen. His curls were full-out after a few days of not being dragged through a straightener, but they did in fact look a bit better than he remembered his curls last looking, and that was because of Jaime's skilled hands. The entire mop was pushed in his usual fringe's style, several waves of curls blending decently enough. 

"I think that's the best I can do with just this comb and my fingers, but I think that it looks good. You look good with curls, Howell. They suit you."

Dan made a face. 

"I'll stick to my emo fringe, thanks."

Jaime shrugged, but a grin was tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

"I'm telling you; you're already handsome as hell, if you just adopt your natural curls, you'd be unstoppable. A force of attractiveness that no one would be able to resist. You'd have like, seven boyfriends."

Dan snorted before he could help himself, and for the first time in a while his thoughts stopped for a few moments. He didn't even notice their absence. 

Jaime pulled him out of the booth and gulped down her coffee (no doubt with  _ way _ too many shots of espresso, knowing Jaime) tossing the empty cup into the bin as they passed it. Dan helped her finish up the last of the prep-work they needed to accomplish before the opening of the store, dancing to the music she played on her phone. 

The day was a slow one. Dan would stare off into space more than normal, every once in a while his thoughts haunting him. There were times in the day where he would feel as if a part of him was shattered, or all emotion would just be sucked out of him, but overall, things weren't too bad. The store wasn't too busy. It rained outside for a few hours, making all of the windows unreasonably steamy. On his lunch break, Dan ended up telling Jaime the story of how he quite literally ran into a stranger, hitting his head horribly on the pavement and possibly giving himself a concussion. Jaime asked him if he had gotten checked out, and when he said no, she berated him, calling him an idiot, and telling him that she was going to drag him to the nearest doctor to get him checked out the moment they were done their shifts. 

Dan didn't even try to tell her that she didn't need to worry, that it was probably nothing, but he did smile at her concern.

"Daniel Howell, the bumbling buffoon that runs into strangers and doesn't get himself assessed afterwards—what am I going to do with you!"

And true to her word, when they had clocked out later that evening, she grabbed him by the arm and did in fact, have him get an evaluation. And— _ surprise surprise _ —he had a concussion. The doctor had shaken his head at Dan's anecdote on how he had injured himself and gave him a list of things to do and not to do to properly care for himself. Dan internally balked when he was told to try and avoid screens; he lived his whole life on the internet how would he be able to distance himself from it?

He was also told things that he should keep an eye out for to try and assess if his concussion was getting worse, because apparently these things could end up  _ serious.  _ Dan told Jaime what the doctor said after the appointment was over, but she had only linked their arms as they walked and nodded. 

"Yes, Dan, concussions can end up bad. That's like, Basic Medicinal Knowledge 101. Now you know why I insisted on you getting checked out?"

"Well now, yeah. Maybe if you just, I don't know,  _ explained  _ yourself?" he jabbed, smirking.

She huffed. 

"You're insufferable."

"You love me."

_ "A fanabla." _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm on spring break right now, so you guys should get the next few chapters a little quicker since I've got some more free time now.
> 
> But for now, I hope you enjoy this one!

After about a week had gone by, Dan was feeling much more like himself. His mental health had balanced out a little, the chemicals in his brain righting themselves to as good as they ever got, and the few symptoms that he had experienced due to his concussion had faded away. Which was good, because Dan was sure that if he forgot what kind of coffee he had been in the middle of making one more time Jaime was going to kick him out of the store until he was fully healed.

Besides the normal mishaps that happened on a day-to-day basis regardless of concussions involved, the week was relatively decent enough and lacking in any special "charm", as Jaime put it. But it wasn't like Dan was complaining. Yeah, it was good to be doing something, but having a slower-than-normal week was perfect for giving Dan's health a little bit of time to catch up. Dan also didn't have to work with Steve at all this past week, which was an absolute  _  blessing, thank god. _

Dan did end up taking the whole "limiting screen time" thing a bit hard. There were multiple times where he would subconsciously pull his phone out of his back pocket to check the time or scroll through social media when there weren't any customers around, just for Jaime to pluck it right out of his hands with a  _ tsk _ . And he would groan and mumble about how "unfair" she was being, but really he was kind of glad that he had someone to make sure he didn't screw his brain up any more than he already had. 

And, because staying up until 4AM on Tumblr wasn't an option anymore, he was significantly much more well-rested, resulting in a much smaller consumption of caffeine, which his body seemed to be thanking him for. Funny how things can work out like that. 

It was a Monday, and he was for once alone in the shop. Steve was in some other country for holiday and Jaime had come down with a nasty cold over the weekend. And, surprisingly enough, that exhausted all of their options. The store itself was small, so it easily got by with few employees, but as it was minus Dan, Jaime, and Steve, the rest of the help were teenagers still in school that took shifts on the weekends and some nights. What was Dan going to do?—call one of the kids and ask them  _ "uh yeah hey I know you're in the middle of class right now, but could you maybe cover for someone who called out sick?". _ No, Dan would pass on that.

His phone dinged in his pocket, and his chuckled. That would be Jaime, for the millionth time today already, complaining that she was "literally dying". There was no one in the shop, so Dan palmed his phone, unlocking it with a swipe of his finger. He laughed at Jaime's message and replied, biting his lip to unconsciously try to hide his smile. 

 

**> > From: my maraschino cherry**

_ dan i cant even get out of bed to write my will  _

_ how will ppl know all of my millions go to my cat _

 

**> > To: my maraschino cherry**

_ two problems: _

_ 1 you dont have a cat _

_ 2 i know full well you have abt 37€ to your name _

 

**> > From: my maraschino cherry**

_ i cant believe you would be this rude to me when im dying _

 

**> > To: my maraschino cherry**

_ if ur gonna die im getting ur paycheck _

 

**> > From: my maraschino cherry**

_ if im gonna die im gonna haunt your ass for the rest of ur miserable life howell _

 

Dan laughed, but a teenager that was  _ obviously  _ skipping school walked in the store, so he pocketed his phone for the moment. She ended up ordering a coffee but didn't stray from the counter, instead she very obviously flicked her eyes over Dan and tried to flirt with him. Fortunately for Dan, however, she could tell after a few moments of his awkward stuttering and the uncomfortable hunch of his shoulders that he wasn't interested, and she backed down, wishing him a good day and walking back out of the store, throwing a "Thanks for the coffee!" over her shoulder. 

When she was gone Dan let out a sigh of relief and relaxed against the counter. He hated being flirted with. It made him way too anxious and stressed out. 

This Monday was the slowest day he had seen in a very long time, possibly the most empty he had ever seen the store in the entire time he had worked here, which had been quite a while. Three hours had passed since that girl had come in, and no one else had entered the store, leaving Dan alone. He'd made himself two coffee's, had his lunch break, played several games on his phone, and even face-timed Jaime. Now though, Jaime was sleeping, his phone was nearly dead, and he still had another four hours before his shift was ending. Would he last until six? Time would only tell, that was for sure.

Dan slumped through another forty-five minutes of him lazing around the coffee shop, counting the cars as they passed by. He nearly fell asleep once, and because he so happened to be working in a coffee shop, Dan made him a double caramel macchiato with an absurd amount of sugar in it. He quite nearly chugged it, just for something to do, but settled for a slightly more reserved series of large gulps. 

Afterwards, he used the key in his pocket to unlock the manager's office. Well, "office" was a bit of a stretch. It was mainly just a tiny room where the security monitor was housed as well as the filing cabinet that was sure to hold things like employee records and information on ingredients purchased and such. Dan's key didn't open that, and since his key was actually Jaime's she didn't have access to that either. The only one who did was the owner. 

Dan sat at the desk, looking around for some sorts of PA system. He had never really been back here, only seen Jaime come in to turn the store's music on and turn it off every day they worked together. And frankly, even if Jaime was technically the manager, she had given Dan the temporary title when he stopped by her apartment to grab the keys to the store when she called him to tell him that she was sick, and that meant that he could choose the music, today. He'd been playing songs on his phone for the day, as some source of background noise, but with the nearing death of his phone, he had stopped the app awhile ago.

_ Maybe music is the key to ending this suffering,  _ Dan thought, shuffling papers out of the way, still looking.  _ Maybe, if I can ever find the damn thing. _

Dan huffed, defeated, slumping against the chair. He absentmindedly spun in it a little, rocking from left to right, thinking. So, there was obviously no little radio or something back here, connected to the speakers, so that was out of the question. There was also no microphone or anything of the sorts that could be used to broadcast music via an outside source like a phone, which wouldn't have helped him anyways with said almost-dead battery. He sat, turning the problem in question around in his head. Dan left his head fall back on the headrest, puffing out his cheeks and staring at the ceiling. He spun himself in the chair with his foot, watching as the peeling paint above him swirled with him. When he came to a stop he picked his head up, thinking about how that was probably not the greatest for his head after a recent concussion, and his gaze landed right on the computer. 

He wasn't sure about his possible success rate, but he sat up, switching the monitor on. A screen for a password came up, and Dan looked at it for a moment before putting in his employee pin. The computer beeped but the screen didn't change. A pop-up surfaced:  _ Your password was incorrect. _

Dan frowned, but then lit up almost immediately as the pieces clicked into place. Of course his pin wouldn't work; he wasn't the manager of the store and didn't have a key to this back room, so it wouldn't make any sense for his employee number to work.  _ However,  _ Jaime  _ was  _ the manager, and they had clocked in for each other more than enough times at this point for each other to know their pins.

He typed out her six-number pin and hit 'enter' but this time when the computer beeped, there was no pop-up. The home screen opened and Dan smiled. There wasn't much on the screen, but he flicked his eyes over the small selection of apps lined up on the left side of the screen and clicked on one who's icon was a blue eighth note. What was basically a souped-up Spotify opened, and Dan scrolled through the music selection available. There was a history bar, but the only thing on there was the local pop station, which was obviously what Jaime played day to day. 

Dan knew that this was a work computer and everything on it was probably recorded and such, and—not to mention the fact that at some point today there were going to be customers so he couldn't choose something nuts—as a result he passed by everything in the search that was heavier, more on the rock and roll side. He finally picked with a huge grin on his face, settling on one of the band's albums and hitting play, cackling when he heard the sound burst through the speakers in the front of the store. Dan raised the volume a little—just a tad,  _ really _ —and stood, making his way out of the manager's office in higher spirits than he entered it with. Dan re-locked the door behind him and made his way back behind the counter with a bounce in his step. 

The next half an hour  _ was  _ better with music to keep him company, especially with his favorite artist easing the boredom that Dan felt. He was enjoying himself, if only slightly.  _ Darkshines  _ faded out and Dan had just finished texting Jaime (who was probably still asleep) that he was having a ton of fun here by himself (which was only half true; the music was good, yes, but he would have prefered some company too). Dan wasn't really paying too much attention to what was playing through the speakers, but when the almost haunting sound was taken over by a wonderful piano solo and the backbeat of a drum that Dan knew so well, he dropped his phone onto the counter and forgot about it completely. Dan grinned so wide he might have been afraid of his face splitting right in two. 

He sang along, gaining confidence in the vacant coffee shop with every verse. Dan drummed on the counter to the guitar, the drums, even the rise and fall of the vocals of the song itself. Dan laughed, dancing on his feet as the chorus crashed. 

 

**_Love is our resistance,_ **

**_They'll keep us apart and won't stop breaking us down,_ **

**_Hold me,_ **

**_Our lips must always be sealed_ **

 

Dan was honestly having fun at that point. One of his favorite songs of all time was on, and frankly, it had picked up his whole mood. 

So, really, Dan couldn't be blamed when he didn't notice the little chime of the bell on top of the front door over the music, but he  _ did  _ notice that he had an audience when he spun around—still, admittedly, dancing—to find a tall, skinny man with dark, dark hair and very pale skin standing, a few steps inside the store, stopped dead in his tracks, mouth open a little and eyes wide, eyebrows high on his forehead. 

Dan yelped, startled and very nearly slipping on his own two feet. He felt his face flush immediately and the guy himself had a dusting of pink on his cheeks, but it was undoubtedly much much more controlled than Dan's. His mouth went dry and he suddenly  _ wished very much  _ that Jaime was here, because if she was, Dan wouldn't have had his choice in music, and him getting caught dancing by a stranger wouldn't have  _ happened, damnit.  _

"Uh...sorry. C-can I help you?" Dan stuttered, his face still hot. One of his hands was shaking but he just slipped it into his pocket. The guy blinked and  _ Resistance  _ was over, the music fading into something else, and the spell between them seemed to break, returning reality to its original state. The stranger nodded, stepping forward, a small smile on his face. 

"It's okay, I like Muse too, I just wasn't expecting it," he said, chuckling, "and I'll have one caramel macchiato, please," he finished, biting his lip a little at the end of his sentence. Dan nodded, turning around and started to make the coffee, grateful to not have to hold the guy's gaze, but Dan could feel his eyes burning holes into Dan's back the entire time that he mixed the drink. He tried not to feel more uncomfortable and embarrassed than he already was. It wasn't working.

"Here you go," Dan said, handing the drink over, "one caramel macchiato." Their hands brushed and Dan flicked his eyes up from where his gaze was resting on the counter. He was looking at Dan weird. Did Dan say something? Offend the guy?

But as Dan finally met the stranger's eyes with his own, he became abruptly aware of how  _ blue  _ they were. A memory surfaced, one of colliding head-first with a stranger on the street with similarly gorgeous eyes, causing Dan to look the guy over. He had the eyes, the same combination of pretty and handsome that Dan remembered through the haze of his headache, the same everything that Dan had remembered.  _ Except  _ for the pair of black glasses perched on his nose. 

In all fairness, the guy had flicked his eyes over Dan too, and was looking at him expectantly, a question that Dan couldn't read in his eyes.

"Did you...this is going to sound weird, but did you happen to, ah,  _ run  _ into anyone? Like last week-ish? And them possibly fall over?" Dan squeaked, his small amount of confidence burning out mid-way through his question but Dan's social anxiety keeping him from dropping it. 

The man smiled, and it was blinding. 

"Yeah! I was wondering if it was you because you looked so familiar, but I didn't want to say anything and seem like a creep. I'm glad you said something!" He laughed, and it was the happiest sound Dan had ever heard. He could feel his blush. The stranger who Dan did-and-didn't know stuck his hand out, that smile still there. 

Dan shook it, his head still whirling. His hands were just as warm as Dan remembered them, as utterly  _ creepy  _ that sounded in his head. 

"I'm Phil, by the way, it's nice to meet you again."

"Uh, Dan. And...yeah," he replied lamely. 

Internally, he groaned.  _ Can he really be any stupider in a social conversation? Is that possible? _

Phil was still smiling, but it dampened a little and he looked concerned.    
"How is your head, by the way? Better, hopefully?"

"Oh, yeah, it still throbs every once in awhile just to be a pain in the ass, but I think I'm good at this point. You were right though—I had a concussion. My friend ended up taking me to the doctor's."

Phil grimaced in sympathy. 

"I can't say that I'm jealous of that. I'm quite a clumsy person, so I've had my fair share of concussions. I'm glad you're feeling better though! I was wondering if you were okay like, the entire rest of the day we ran into each other. I felt so guilty."

_ Damn, he'd probably double over if I told him that I stayed in bed for like 48 hours straight after that fall,  _ Dan thought,  _ eh, it  _ **_was_ ** _ for a different reason though, maybe not. _

Instead of voicing his thoughts, Dan chuckled a little.

"The whole day, huh? That's pretty empathetic, especially for a stranger."

"Oi! You looked like you were about to fall over! It was like walking one of my drunk friends home!" Phil said, almost a whine. Dan laughed, he couldn't help it really, there was just something inexplicably funny about Phil grumbling as he was.

"Besides, we aren't strangers anymore, so you're point is totally invalid."

"Oh yeah?"   
"Yeah. I'm Phil, you're Dan. Dan and Phil. Phil and Dan. We know each other's names so we're totally not strangers." 

Dan snorted and shook his head. His phone beeped on the counter, definitely just Jaime replying to him, probably telling him not to have so much fun when she was dying. 

"Aw, you're ringer isn't a Muse song. I'm disappointed now." Phil said and Dan rolled his eyes.

"I don't like Muse that much, mate."

Phil scoffed playfully, and gave Dan a look.

"Really? I walked in here with you giving your own little performance of  _ Resistance  _ by Muse. Quite entertainingly, really, and I can bet that no one who 'doesn't like Muse that much' would do that,  _ mate. _ "

Dan felt a little off at that. Partially because Phil saw right through Dan's bullshit  _ and  _ his easy-going jibe at Dan's use of 'mate'. 

"Fine, you caught me, guilty as charged and all that—I love Muse. They're my absolute favorite music group and the owners of my literal soul." At the end, Dan had gotten a bit sarcastic, but overall the statement was true. Phil smiled, but this one was different, it was slyer, like he knew a secret that Dan didn't. 

"I thought so, Dan."

Dan almost choked on his own spit when Phil said his name like that. And Dan wasn't even sure what  _ 'like that'  _ even meant, he just knew that there was something different at how his name rolled off of Phil's lips.

Phil's eyes went a little wide, his mouth forming an 'o' like he was remembering something. 

"Oh yeah! I totally forgot to pay!" Phil reached into his back pocket, and Dan's eyes totally didn't follow the movement, thank you very much. He pulled out a leather wallet and opened it up, placing his coffee on the counter so he could use two hands and was already pulling out money, but Dan snapped back to attention and waved it away. 

"No no, you keep that Phil."

"Dan, I've got to pay for my coffee."   
"Nope, I won't let you. It's on me, okay? I ran into you that night, you walked me home  _ and _ made sure I got in safely, trust me, you keep your money, Phil."

"Dan, we ran into each other, you can't really count that," Phil said, trying to hand Dan what was enough to buy two coffees. Dan pushed Phil's hands away, giving the guy an exasperated look. 

"I can and I will. Look, even if you don't count that, you still walked me home, I still owe you."

"That's not how it works."

"You did a favor for me, I'm doing a favor for you; that's so how it works."

"Dan-"

"Take the damn coffee, Phil," Dan said, and following an impulse, plucked the wallet out of Phil's hands, slipped the money back inside and shut it. Dan leaned over the counter a little for a better reach, one of his hands braced on the counter, and put the wallet into the pocket on Phil's shirt. Dan pulled back, rocking on his heels a little, and flashed Phil a little smile. Phil shook his head, but there was a smile on his face.

"You are very stubborn, Dan"

"Thanks."

Phil laughed and picked up his coffee, taking a sip. His face lit up and he looked down at the steaming drink in his hands. 

"Wow this is actually really good," he said, surprise in his voice.

"You are one of those really supportive friends, aren't you, Phil." Dan snorted.

"Hey!" Phil cried, indignantly. "How do I know that fall didn't, like, scramble your brains or something? Forever impair your coffee-making abilities?"

Dan laughed again, and honestly, he couldn't help it if he tried. Phil was just too...too  _ Phil.  _ Dan didn't know what was about him, but now that he wasn't severely concussed, he was aware of how fun Phil seemed to be around. 

It turned out that Phil had been looking around for a place to stay and burn some time before he had to get into work, so he stayed up at the counter, and he and Phil fooled around for a little, joking and teasing each other. Dan had made himself a drink (a smoothie this time because he didn't think his system could handle any more caffeine without imploding) and Phil had another coffee and a danish from their display case (which he actually paid for because he quite literally just  _ wouldn't  _ accept Dan waving the money away). When it came time for Phil to leave, however, the process nearly took almost fifteen minutes because neither of them would shut up. When Phil was at the glass door and they were still trading jokes, he looked at his watch and said something about running late from staying too long, and even though he didn't seem too concerned about it, Dan certainly was, shooing him out with a "Phil! Go! I swear to god if you're late to work!". Phil had laughed his way out and so had Dan, really. 

When he was gone though, Dan couldn't help but feel a little lonely. He hadn't really had anyone around all day besides the very few customers that had popped in for a few minutes, and Phil's presence was a welcome change in all of it. Now that he was gone the store felt much more empty than before. 

Thankfully for Dan though, soon after, things started to pick up. More and more people came in for their evening coffee, and with the customers, Dan was busy, which was good enough. When his shift was over, and two teens had come in to take over the store, Dan had forgone getting a taxi home to walk under the gloom of the Manchester skies. He stopped by a fast-food place to grab some dinner on his way back to his flat.

And if he paused and looked around at a particular corner close to home, his spirits dropping a little at the sight of nothing and nobody around him, no one had to know. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update should be soon! I've been writing a ton while I'm on spring break! Enjoy!

Tuesday passed in a similar fashion as Monday had. Dan was in the shop alone since Jaime was still sick, and the trickle of customers was extremely slow. However, the first thing he did upon unlocking the store was start playing music right off the bat. Yes, he played Muse, and _yes,_ when _Resistance_ came on he was alone once again, and he once again, danced to the song like he normally did when he was alone. However, when Phil didn't show up with his blue blue eyes and big grin, Dan tried to hide his own disappointment from himself.

_You're just lonely, get over yourself._

Wednesday, however, Dan was in the middle of prepping the store for opening when Jaime tumbled in, looking extremely disgruntled with paler-than-normal skin, messy hair pulled back in a bun, and a tired scowl on her face.

Dan didn't even try to suppress a smile and easily made his way over to her, scooping her up in a hug. Jaime protested, but Dan could tell it was half-hearted.

"Dan! Put me down! You're going to get sick you doofus!"  
The rest of the set-up of the shop passed quicker with Jaime there to help him, and they went about their normal routine together. It was second nature at this point, really.

When Jaime had gone to the back, however, to start the radio, she called back from the manager's office: "Dan! You were listening to Muse while I was gone? Seriously?"

"Um...maybe?" he had replied, sheepishly.

With Jaime's return, things seemed to get back to normal. The rush of customers was back, and Dan was busy that Wednesday morning with the influx of customers and taking over some of Jaime's workload because she was still feeling like shit and Dan was feeling fine so she should just let him _help her damnit._

Dan was behind the counter, stuffing a sandwich in his mouth and scrolling through twitter. It was his lunch break and he was out here in case things picked up and Jaime needed help, but it was more of a precaution than anything. For one, she was barely accepting the help that Dan was giving her as it was just because of her personality, and two, they were in the typical "low" in the afternoon; not many people usually walked at this time.

Jaime plopped herself down next to Dan, and he let her slump against him.

"I _hate_ being sick."

Dan hummed in agreement, putting an arm around her and sympathetically rubbing her shoulder.

Their relationship was something different to Dan. He was extremely anti-social, and to be frank, pretty much loathed all forms of social interaction and physical touch with someone he wasn't completely comfortable with. When he had first met Jaime and she had slung an arm around his upper body because she couldn't reach his shoulders, he was certain that they weren't going to get along. He was certain that things wouldn't work out, that he would fuck something up with his inability to do anything involving people. He was certain that their personalities would clash way too much to ever be able to meld together. He was certain he was certain he was _certain._

But god was he _wrong._

All it took was a stupid joke that Dan had cracked under his breath on his second day of the job about how this elderly guy's haircut looked like a croissant to seal their friendship because apparently Jaime had heard him and agreed, spitting out her water from laughing so hard. After that, they had grown very close very fast. Within a week they had each other's numbers and long before Dan had even known her for a month they had stayed up until the early hours of the morning texting for hours on more than one occurrence. In the now-nearing two years of friendship they had hugged, fallen asleep on each other, cried together, had ridiculous two-people parties, an uncountable number of movie marathons and sleepovers, and done so so much together. She knew about Dan's depression and he knew about her struggles with anxiety and panic attacks, and they supported each other through it all.

Dan had never had a friendship like it and he knew that he never would. Jaime would always be his best friend, and he would always be hers.

So yes, Dan letting people into his personal space was nearly unheard of, but he couldn't really remember a time when there was someone that he had had this deep of a connection with. Hugging Jaime just felt like second nature.

Jaime poked him, drawing Dan out of his thoughts.

"I want to re-dye my roots this weekend. Will you help me?"

"Hmmm I dunno…"

"Oh shut up, you rat, you know you like helping me dye my hair."

"When did I ever say that?"

"When your stupid eyes light up every time we do it." Jaime said, rolling her eyes. Dan gave an exaggerated scoff, indirectly saying to her _"I know you're right but I'm_ **_not_ ** _admitting that"._ Jaime smiled, shaking her head, and they fell back into that familiar silence.

"You know, you should really dye your hair."

Dan put his phone down, groaning.

"Jaime, we've talked about this, I look like shit in general, but me with dyed hair would be even shittier."

"No, stupid, you would actually look even better than you do, I think." She gave him an unimpressed look. "Dan, you are _ridiculously_ attractive as you are. If you would let your curls out and dye your hair then you would like, destroy the brain cells of anyone who'd look at you. Your attractiveness would reach inhuman levels. Every single person in England would fall over themselves to win you over. You'd have yourself a sugar daddy in seconds."

Dan's face went red, and he gapped at her.

"Not true!"

"Of course it's true. When am I ever wrong?"

"My hobbit hair is a disaster, first of all, and secondly, what would happen when the dye fades away? Look, I would be a _horrible_ blond."

Jaime squinted her eyes at him a little, looking at him up and down. She nodded after a moment.

"Okay, yes, I do agree with that, you wouldn't be able to pull off the bleached-blond look, but I might just be underestimating you and god you'd probably find a way as it is. _But,_ I didn't have any intentions of bleaching your hair to begin with, idiot," she reached up, flicking a piece of hair out of Dan's face, "I'm saying that we should dye your hair as it is. A dark blue would look good, I think. Or maybe a red. But that's not the point, the point is that after the dye would fade, you'd still have your brown hair."

"Jaime, I still think that I would look like shit."

Jaime opened her mouth to argue, but the bell to the shop sounded and a few customers walked in. Jaime cursed under her breath—something in Italian that Dan didn't know and probably _didn't_ want to know—and stood, plastering a smile to her face and taking their orders.

Dan shoved the last of his sandwich into his mouth and brushed the breadcrumbs off of his lap. He stood and stretched, sighing as his shoulder popped and making his way to where Jaime was making coffees. He bumped her hip as he passed and she threw a smirk at him over her shoulder, but otherwise, they didn't acknowledge each other.

After they had helped the small crowd, Jaime took her break, sitting in the same place that Dan had occupied not too long ago, cracking jokes and making Dan laugh the entire time. It was familiar and enjoyable, making something warm spread through Dan's chest. He was happy.

About two hours later, when the afternoon rush had mostly passed and they were each leaning on the counter, debating on which snacks to buy for this weekend (they wouldn't be able to decide and just buy it all, like always) when the little bell above the front door chimed again. Jaime looked at Dan pleadingly and Dan raised his head to look at the ceiling, making a show of pretending to decide if he was going to take this customer, but his messing with Jaime was interrupted by said customer who had walked it.

"So, are you not going to dance for me this time, Dan?"

Dan whirled around, for the first time looking to see who had walked into the shop, and his eyes met two blue ones. _Phil._

Dan's brain, however, chose that moment to finally compute what Phil had said and he blushed, heat rising to his cheeks incredibly fast. He sputtered, and Phil laughed at Dan's embarrassment.

"I'm kidding, Dan!" he said, still giggling. Dan was still gaping like a fish out of water. Jaime had materialized out of thin air to his left, and Dan wasn't sure what to address first. Phil? Jaime? Dan's own thoughts?

"Dan, I swear to _god_ -" Jaime started, but Dan turned to her, grabbing her shoulders and marching her away.

"No, nope, Jaime, go sit and rest up, I've got this."

"That's not what I was-"

"Oops, sorry Jaime, I can't hear you, I'm too busy walking over here to do my job."

"Dan that doesn't even _make sense, come back here-_ "

Dan found himself back at the counter, faced once again with Phil, whose mouth was turned up in a little smile. He was missing the black frames that he had worn a few days ago when Dan had last seen him. Luckily, Jaime stayed where she was, and Dan knew that she was undoubtedly grumbling to herself in the back where Dan left her, but he would take that over her here for this confrontation any day.

"Hey," Dan said, a little breathlessly. He felt nervous. _Why the hell am I nervous?_

"Hi."

Dan's hand drummed against the counter. He felt like a live wire.

The silence between them filled with nothing but the gentle _thum thum thum_ of Dan's fingers against the wood and Phil's stare paired with that little smile. Dan couldn't stand it anymore even if it had only lasted no more than a few seconds at this point.

"Are you back for more of my amazing coffee?"  
"Hmm, you could say that. It _was_ pretty good, after all."

Internally, Dan sighed in relief.

"Alright, what can I get you, then, another caramel macchiato?" Dan asked, and Phil's gaze dropped from Dan to some point over his shoulder—the menu. Phil huffed, reading over the options before looking back at Dan.

"Yeah, please."

Dan made the coffee, his hands shaking a little. He handed Phil his coffee, and this time their fingers didn't brush. Phil took a sip, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Dan, you've outdone yourself again. This is just as good as last time." He said, humming happily. Dan felt some of the tension in his shoulders melt away a little. He didn't really know why, but he was grateful for it.

"Well, I would hope I'd be able to make a decent coffee after being in the game for this long." Dan said, hoping that he didn't sound too sarcastic.

"Yeah? How long have you been working here?"

"Oh, close to two years now. I've had a lot of jobs in the past, but this is the one that has really stuck, I guess."

Phil nodded, his eyes bright. He even looked like he was even paying attention to Dan, not blowing him off, _god._ Who _was_ this guy? And why did he keep showing up in Dan's life? Why did he seem so nice and _not_ like an asshole?

"You like it here?"

Dan frowned. He kind of hated it when people asked him questions like that, but he didn't really know why. Maybe he was just _that_ unhappy with his life. It wouldn't surprise him, honestly.

"No, not really. It pays the bills—just barely—which is the only reason why I do it, though. I need money from somewhere." Dan said. There was something sour in his tone, and even Dan could hear it. Phil grimaced in sympathy, and nodded once again, taking a generous sip of his coffee.

"I know how you feel. I spent a miserable existence in this one office job, about a year back. I swear every day made me just want stab my eyes out or something. I hated it."

Dan didn't get a chance to reply, however, because a group of teenagers ended up walking in, laughing about something. Dan and Phil looked at each other, and Dan gave Phil a small smile, mouthing "sorry". Phil smiled back at Dan, and it was just as blinding as it always was.

"It's okay, Dan. How much do I owe you, again?"

Dan tried to protest the money, really, but Phil had just raised his eyebrows and shook his head, laughing a little as he kept pressing the money into Dan's hands. After a few moments of this, however, Phil took a page out of Dan's book, and just like their last encounter, leaned over the counter, tucking the money right in the front pocket of Dan's uniform before laughing at Dan's stunned face as he walked away. Dan watched him, his face once again hot, mouth open in shock, as Phil chose a booth off to the side and sat down with his coffee. He pulled his phone out and started to scroll, smiling to himself.

"Snap out of it, Romeo," Jaime hissed in his ear, yanking Dan out of his reverie. He didn't know when she had reappeared, but it was just in time because the teenagers were in front of the register (and in turn, Dan) and ready to order. Together, they made the drinks, Dan's hands just moving on auto-pilot at this point. Jaime took over the register when they paid, Dan standing off to the side. When the group had gone, however she rounded on him, arms crossed over her chest, a glare on her face.

"You better, spill, Howell. Why does that _very_ attractive man that I have never seen before know your name and _when in high heaven_ did you _dance for him?_ "

Dan winced, scratching the back of his head, not sure where to start.

"Well, um, do you remember how I told you that I ran into someone, and that was how I got my concussion?

"Daniel Howell I swear if you're trying to tell me that you lied at you got that concussion in some hook-up with this guy, I'm going to-"

"No! No, no! It's not that, Jaime!" Dan interrupted, eyes wide, mortified. "He was the guy I ran into! That night, the guy who I bumped into and the guy who walked me home, that's him. His name is Phil."

"I thought, you said that you had no idea who you ran into?" she said, frowning. Dan felt like strangling himself. He was explaining this like a mess.

"I didn't. Well, I didn't know him when I ran into him. He came in on Monday afternoon for a coffee, and we recognized each other. He ended up staying for like an hour, though, because he had time to kill, and since I was bored and the store was empty, we ended up talking."

"Where does the dancing play into this?"

"When he walked in, I was, uh, dancing to Muse," Dan bit his lip, looking away, feeling his face heat up a little in embarrassment. He couldn't help it. He hated dancing in front of people, and that included Jaime, really. He just didn't like the attention.

This time both of Jaime's eyebrows raised, and she looked surprised.

"Uh huh. So you just _happened_ to once again meet a—and I know I said this before but I don't care— _very_ attractive stranger, accidentally danced in front of him, ended up talking for like an hour all alone, and you just _happened_ to leave all of these details out when I ask you what's up? Dan, honey, _please._ " Jaime gave Dan another look, and he held back another wince. She was right with that. It had been awhile since Dan had kept something like this from Jaime, even if it wasn't on purpose.  
"Yeah, I know Maraschino, I just-"

Jaime _tsked,_ and stopped him, holding up a finger. "Dan, you _know_ I'm not mad at you so you don't have to try and appease me with that nickname, but you missed my point. My _point_ is, are you guys _friends_?"

With her stress on "friends" the meaning clicked immediately, and Dan groaned, wishing he could bang his head on the counter below them and end it all.

"Jaime, you _know_ I don't date people. So yes, we are just _friends,_ if he even wants that."

Dan's best friend gave him a look of utter disbelief.

"Dan, you're not stupid, that much is clear, but oh my _god_ are you oblivious. I didn't catch all of your conversation with him but jesus on a bicycle he was flirting with you, Danny. Him leaning over that counter? Anyone else would have pulled him into a kiss just like that."

"Well I'm not anyone else-"

Jaime nodded.

"I know, because you don't date. And—I still wish you'd tell me why you don't date, but beggars can't be choosers—I just don't think that _he_ knows that. Do you? That smile, those eyes, damnit did you even see that fond look of his? He's head over heels, Dan."

Dan crossed his arms over his chest, a little uncomfortable. He didn't say anything, but Jaime—like normal—read him like a book and her face softened immediately.

"Look, Dan, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable or pressure you into anything, really, I'm not. I'm just saying, if you still want to be friends with this guy, I would lay up on the charm. And before you say anything, I know you don't _try_ to be as fucking charming as you are—heaven help us all when you do—but like I said, he doesn't. I'd either tell him that you're not interested in anything other than friends, or like, I don't know, go easier on him. If I didn't know you I would think that you were flirting right back with him."

Jaime looked at Dan, and yes, he was avoiding her gaze like a complete child, but he could only do so for so long, apparently, because sooner rather than later his eyes were flicking back up to hers. He sighed, nodding.

"Alright, mum."

She gave him a small smile and rolled her eyes, shoving him lightly with her shoulder.

"Oi. I'll ground you, mister."  
Dan laughed, and so did Jaime, and just like that, the seriousness in the air was gone and things between them were back to normal.

The rest of Dan's shift passed normally enough, even if he was acutely aware of Phil's presence the entire time he was sat there in that booth. When Phil did get up to leave, however, Dan was dealing with a line of customers. Their eyes met and Dan gave Phil a helpless look which Phil only laughed at, mouthing a "see you later, Dan" and giving Dan one last smile before walking out the glass door, the little bell chiming like it always did. Dan cursed the fact that he had customers in his line. He had wanted to say bye to Phil. Now, grumpy, he took the orders that he had to, making the coffees with a bit of a frown on his face. Jaime noticed, and bumped his hip to cheer him up. It only partially worked.

About an hour later, when they both got off, they took a pastry to go and split it between them as they walked together. Jaime ended up dragging Dan home with her and they were both spread out on the sofa, Jaime's feet in Dan's lap and his body leaning on hers, watching the latest Marvel movie together, takeout in each of their hands, laughing at all of the best parts.

It was late when Dan finally stepped into his dark apartment, and he slipped his shoes off at the door, shedding his jacket. Dan decided to not bother turning a light on even if the dark freaked him the fuck out, brushing his teeth to the dim light of Manchester at night leaking in through the window in his bathroom. He shucked off his work shirt and his jeans, crawling under his duvet in nothing but his pants, not bothering with his sleep shirt. Dan briefly looked at his laptop sitting on his nightstand and contemplated opening it, but for once decided against it. He was more tired than normal and it would do him some good to actually get a full night's sleep.

Dan laid down, drawing the duvet up to his nose and closing his eyes, breathing out.

He was asleep within moments.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is literally just a ton of fluff between Jaime and Dan before Phil even enters this chapter and I apologize for nothing.

With a maniacal grin Jaime upturned the plastic bag in her hands, its contents spilling out onto the table. Dan picked up two of the small boxes.

"Jaime, you have two very different colors here. Please tell me you aren't going to dye each side of your head a different color again."

"That was a fucking _phase,_ Dan, so _no,_ you ass, I'm not." She said, giving him a look and snatching the hair dye out of Dan's hands. She dropped the red one back onto the table and held up the blue one. It was a pretty color, a deep, royal blue that would look really good on her. "This one is for you."

"Oh my god, _Jaime,_ we _talked_ about this!"

Jaime snorted, tossing Dan the hair dye and moving past him, opening one of her cabinets to find the bowl that she used when she was coloring her hair. Dan, in lieu of letting the boxed hair dye either clatter to the ground or hit him _before_ clattering to the ground, fumbled with it in the air for a few heartbeats before he was able to catch it. Frowning up at Jaime from his seat, Dan put the box dye on the table.

"I'm not dyeing my hair, Jaime."

"But _Dan-_ "

"No, no buts. My hair may be a shit brown, but it's _my_ shit brown."   
"I don't even know how I should respond to that," Jaime said, sitting down in a chair opposite Dan, "like should I be happy that you are at least accepting your hair a little? Should I say something like _'no Dan, you're hair isn't a shit brown! Love yourself!'_ ? God, Howell, just stick to basic answers." She huffed and started to wrestle the bleach from it's box. She looked up at him with a smirk, and Dan knew that she wasn't really offended that he didn't want to dye his hair. "Fine, I guess, if you insist on being _boring,_ Danny-boy."

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry, Danny-boy."

Dan groaned, and Jaime cackled as she mixed the bleach. When she was done, she threw a pair of gloves at Dan.

"Here, would you mind helping me since I'm only doing my roots? It'd be a hell of a lot easier than me doing it myself and the sooner this is done the sooner we can go be idiots together."

"Like we're already not doing that," Dan muttered, pulling on the gloves. He stood up and made his way behind Jaime, running his fingers through her hair once.

"At least you remembered to brush it this time," he remarked before pulling Jaime's hair to one side except for a little portion. He used one of the clips on the table to keep her ridiculously thick hair back how he wanted it.

"Yes, god, Dan it was _one_ time that I forgot, okay?"

Dan hummed and picked up the brush and the container of mixed bleach on the table. It didn't take Dan as long to apply the bleach as it normally did when he helped Jaime do her hair because he was working with so little of it, but it still took a good half an hour to properly and evenly work it into the few inches of undyed hair up near her scalp that had grown in since she had last dyed it. Dan didn't mind the task though, and like Jaime had pointed out a few days ago in the coffee shop, he even liked it. There was just something calming in the act of applying the bleach to little sections of hair one by one until he was finished. And Jaime always bought him food afterwards, so, perks.

While they were waiting for the bleach to settle though, Jaime challenged Dan to a game of Mario, and frankly, there was no way that he could say no to that when they both knew who would win. So up until the timer on Jaime's phone went off they were both sat on the floor, all focus on the tiny TV that was set up in Jaime's living room. The first two rounds Dan beat her with flying colors, but she only gave a huff and shoved him, starting the game when he fell back in surprise, an undignified squeak coming out of his lips.

"Hey! No fair!"

"All's fair when someone's playing Mario Kart against you, Danny-boy."

Dan groaned at the name, shoving her with his shoulder back. The motion didn't really disturb her as much as it had Dan, though, so he just gritted his teeth and pulled out all of the stops to catch up. That game was close, with Jaime getting first easily in the beginning, and Dan _just barely_ able to squeeze past her and into the leading spot at the last minute.

"No! Damn you, Howell! Damn you!"

When the alarm had gone off, Jaime dropped her controller on to Dan's lap and stood, disappearing down the hall into her bathroom. Dan heard the water in the sink start to run, and stretched as he waited. He couldn't exactly play a multiplayer round of Mario Kart by himself.

"Hey, Dan, can you get the dye ready? I'll be there in a sec," Jaime said, poking her head out of the doorway.

It didn't take Dan long to mix the boxed dye with how many times he'd done this before for his best friend, and he was done before Jaime was, so he threw on a clean pair of gloves and waited for her. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait for long because soon enough Jaime was padding towards him, rubbing an aggressively-stained towel on her head. She threw him a smirk before she sat in front of him, taking the towel away to reveal her now _horrendously_ tangled hair.

"There you go, Danny-boy, get cracking."

"Tell me you have a comb or something because what the _fuck,_ Jaime?"

She laughed and held up a brush.

"Oh come on, it can't be _that_ bad."

Dan didn't respond, only shook his head and sighed in exasperation. He worked out the knots and tangles until he could easily run the brush through her hair unobstructed. Then, just like before, Dan parted her hair and clipped it back. Using the red dye, he covered the now bleached-yellow hair at the top of her head, applying it just like how Jaime had taught him back when they were still in the early stages of their friendship and Dan had helped her for the first time. Working, Dan bit his lip in concentration. Jaime was scrolling through her phone, and within moments music was playing from her wireless speakers. It was some band that she listened to that Dan had never heard of, with wild guitar riffs and drum beats that you could feel in your chest.

"You'd like this band," she remarked, dropping her phone onto the table. Dan didn't reply; he just kept working. Find a section of hair, clip back the rest he hadn't gotten to yet, apply the dye, repeat. Section, clip, apply, repeat, repeat, repeat. It was methodical and easy to just revert to autopilot, almost, barely even thinking about what his hands were doing and just letting them go.

Dan was done in just about the same amount of time as it had took him to do the bleach, and when he stepped back, he couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out from his chest.

When all was said and done, Jaime always looked flawless, but when there was thick, bright-ass blood-red hair dye on her head, then she just looked plain ridiculous (he seriously doubted that anyone can manage to look good with that stuff on their head, but that _wasn't the point_ ).

"Yeah yeah, laugh all you want, Howell, I'm sure you're dying over there," Jaime snorted, standing up and smacking Dan's arm. She dipped her finger into the paste-like dye on the table just the tiniest bit and then brought her hand up, flicking a drop of dye right onto Dan's cheek. He sputtered, eyes wide and mouth open.

"Jaime that _stains!_ " he screeched, dashing for the kitchen sink and running his hand through a little bit of water before rubbing the dye off of his face. It wasn't on long enough to stain his skin, not nearly, but Dan was still glaring and Jaime was still cackling maliciously.

* * *

After they had finally managed to get their shit together and cleaned up, they had continued to play the Mario Kart game that had sat, paused, since it had been time for Jaime to rinse out the bleach in her hair. Dan had won that game, had won every single game after that, except for _one,_ and when Jaime had crossed the finish line _that much_ ahead of Dan, she had stood up and hollered, pumping her fist into the air and practically jumping for joy.

"Look at that, Howell! Look at it! Look at that fabulous win! I _told you_ that I could beat your miserable ass!"

Dan rolled his eyes, but he wasn't really annoyed, not even close.

"Uh huh, and how many times have I beat _your_ miserable ass? Um, a million? _Two_ million? Am I even close?"

"Shut up! Don't you dare rain on my parade you little shit!"

Jaime and Dan had both forgotten to set an alarm, so when they had noticed that nearly an hour and a half had passed, they paused the game and Jaime went to go and wash out the dye still sitting in her hair. It didn't seem to take her as long as last time, and incredibly fast she walked out, hair a dripping wet mess and once again tangled as hell. Dan gave her his best _"are you fucking kidding me"_ but still waved her over, and he checked her roots to make sure that he hadn't missed a spot.

"I got your scalp a little bit over here, but I can't find any pieces that I didn't color. Congrats, Jaime, you're living up to your nickname."

"Yeah, 'maraschino cherry', what a nickname."

"Shut up, I was young, I was stupid, I was trying to make friends and you had bright fucking red hair back then just like you do now."

"Dan, babe, you're still young, you're still stupid, and you're _still_ trying to make friends. It's not like things have really changed."

"Oh shut it, I can barely handle you there's no room in my life for other friends."

"Mhm, sure."

Dan sat back on the sofa and Jaime joined him, laying her head on the armrest opposite of Dan and plopping her feet on his lap. Dan didn't even blink at the fact—she'd been doing it for practically as long as they had been friends at this point.

They had left their controllers on the floor, but it seemed that Jaime wanted to get up even less than Dan did, because she only grabbed the remote on the table next to her head and changed the input on the TV. She started to flip through channels absentmindedly.

"There's that new movie out and I was thinking that we could go see that in the cinema."

"And let me guess, gorge ourselves on popcorn and overpriced candy, you'll chug a soda in about thirty seconds flat just for shits and giggles or to impress the local lesbian, and laugh way too loud in the back of the theater, making jokes the entire time and acting like a couple of obnoxious teenagers?" Dan said, counting each thing off on his fingers. Jaime grinned.  
"You say that like there's another way to possibly enjoy a good show at the cinema."

Dan laughed.

"And hey, maybe I'll chug a soda to impress the local hot guy _and_ the local lesbian."

"Jaime, what the literal fuck."

"Don't judge me, you're the one who on a dare got their dick stuck in-"

"Oh my _god_ shut the _fuck up!_ " Dan exclaimed, lobbing her in the face with a pillow. They were both laughing, Jaime quite literally snorting.

"I can't believe you did that. Even _with_ how utterly _drunk_ you were. It amazes me. I wish I had a camera to permanently document your shame."

"I'm just going to be thankful that you didn't."

They had ended up watching the last bit of some show that just happened to be on at the time, and when the commercials kicked on, Dan pushed Jaime's legs off of his and stood. She groaned but Dan only pulled her up to her feet as well.

"C'mon, I was promised popcorn and sweets, I better not be disappointed."

Jaime's hair had stopped dripping, but it was also still very messy and still _far_ from being dry. However, she didn't seem fazed by it at all, throwing on a pair of shoes and her jacket, standing by the door and waiting for Dan. They headed out together, walking down the steps to the shared front door of her apartment complex. When they tried to step outside, though, they were greeted with a wall of rain.

"Damn, I thought it was supposed to be sunny for once today." Dan remarked. Jaime frowned before closing the door and grabbing Dan's hand, pulling him back up the steps.

"I don't know about you but I would much rather stay home and watch shitty rom-coms on netflix than go out in that, so, change in plans." She unlocked the door to her flat. "I think I have some microwavable popcorn somewhere." She added, as if in a afterthought. Jaime turned to Dan. "I'll find something to watch if you track down my popcorn."

"Yeah, fine," Dan said. He opened a few cabinets, moving around the contents of each a little to get a proper look.

"Hey, why don't you check the weather? Maybe it'll stop soon and we can still hit the cinema later," Dan called, opening up another cabinet. He gave himself a mental high-five when he found the microwavable popcorn.

"Do you know what channel there's weather on? Is the weather even a channel anymore?" Jaime asked, but it sounded like she was talking to herself more than anything, so Dan just popped the bag in the microwave and started it. He grabbed a bowl and waited. The popcorn was really starting to get going when Jaime gasped.

"Dan! Dan come here you've got to see this!"

"Hang on, I can't burn the food."

"Dan!"

"Will you wait a minute? I'll be right there!" Dan called over his shoulder. He was waiting for the violent sound of corn kernels quite literally exploding to slow down before he stopped the microwave, and the timing was precise. Leave it in too long, it starts to burn, too little and you've still got a bunch of kernels at the bottom of the bag. Finding the sweet spot was a skill that had taken Dan a while to form, and after he had tasted above-average microwave popcorn, he could never settle for less than the best.

 _There,_ he thought, stopping the microwave and pulling over the little door, reaching in and grabbing the bag by the tips of his fingers to minimize the possibility of burning his fingers. However, it didn't exactly happen according to plan and he hissed, the hot oil on the bag searing his fingertips. Dan dropped the bag into the bowl and brought his fingers up to his mouth. He sucked on them for a moment, frowning. _Damnit I burned myself with a bag of popcorn._

With his second try at opening it, Dan succeeded, and he was able to pour the contents into the thin aluminum bowl. Dan made his way into the lounge, munching on a few of the pieces on the top that weren't the temperature of the sun itself.

Jaime was standing in the middle of the room, mouth agape, eyes wide. She looked at him when he walked in and instantly stepped forward, pulling on the sleeve of his jumper to get him to move faster. She brought him in front of the TV and on it was a lady that Dan had never seen before, sitting at a typical news anchor desk. Next to her was a balding man in a pressed suit, who seemed to be finishing a report on a recent British election.

"Jaime, what's so amazing about-"

"Shh! Wait a minute! They'll come back to him!"  
"'Him' who?"

"Oh just wait a minute, Howell, you'll shit yourself when you see."

Dan just stood there, the curiosity rising in him by the moment. What was so exciting? He certainly didn't know and Jaime seemed adamant on him finding out for himself, so in response to being helpless in the situation, Dan continued to eat the popcorn in his arms. The lady was talking now, about how the police had found the culprit for a murder that had happened a few weeks ago.

_"-hopefully he stays there for quite the while, don't you think, Markus?"_

_"Yes, hopefully. Now, onto the weather."_

Jaime gripped Dan's arm and inhaled sharply. Dan still popped another piece in his mouth.

_"Thanks, Markus. Now, the weather patterns have changed quite dramatically since-"_

Dan choked on the popcorn in his mouth, coughing. There, on Jaime's TV, smiling and broadcasting the fucking _weather,_ was Phil himself. He was wearing a dress shirt with a tie that had clouds on it, and some nice slacks. His hair was styled in a quiff and he was once again lacking the glasses that Dan had seen him in before. Dan was still coughing, however, and his eyes were watering at his point and Jaime was rubbing his back.

_I swear to god if I die choking on a piece of popcorn…_

Whether fortunate or not, Dan managed to dislodge the food stuck in his throat, but he was still staring at Phil on the screen. Phil was smiling, but it wasn't his million-watt smile like normal. Prior to about thirty seconds ago, he had only seen Phil smile with nothing less than full radiance at him, so to see this a-little-less-than complete smile was a surprise. It hadn't even occurred to Dan that Phil was any less than stunningly happy at any point in the day. It just seemed impossible.

"Dan, you never told me that you knew the fucking weatherman."

"Well I didn't know!" Dan cried, his eyes still on Phil. He was talking about some kind of pressure system. "It's not like he's mentioned it to me."

"Damn, I don't know why, especially with all of his flirting he was doing with you. _'Oh yeah, I'm a super hot weatherman, do you possibly want to fuck in front of the camera's green screen?'_ is a vital one-liner he missed out on."

 _"Jaime!"_ Dan sputtered, turning to her, his face burning and most likely undoubtedly as red as her hair. She looked at him innocently.   
"I don't know what you're talking about."

"First of all, I still don't think he was flirting, and second of all, the only person who's mental enough to try and ask someone out like that is you!"

She sighed.

"Dan, I thought we agreed. He wants to get in your pants. He wants the D, that ass, or, hell, maybe he wants to _give_ the D, I won't judge."

_"Oh my god."_

"Hey, I'm only stating the simple observations that I've taken to account. That guy has heart eyes around you and you aren't any better."

Jaime pulled them both on the couch, and because of their bickering, they had completely missed what Phil had said about the rain, so neither of them made a move to change the channel, but Dan did give Jaime a helpless look.

"Jaime, there's no way that he would like me, and besides, I don't like him either. We're just friends, if we're even that."

"Dan, you guys can be friends all you want, but I am calling bullshit on the rest of what you just said. Look, I don't know the guy, and you don't either, but you are also oblivious as hell. Trust me when I say that he likes you. And _you,_ however, do in fact like him. You blush like a teenaged girl when she's first exposed to a shirtless picture of Nick Jonas and jesus you act like one too. I'm not saying it's bad, I'm not saying that I think you should date the guy, I'm just saying, at least confront your feelings."

"Jaime…"

"No, don't 'Jaime' me. I know you better than you know yourself, Howell. You like him. He likes you."

"I don't-"

Jaime groaned, throwing her head back and grabbing a handful of popcorn and throwing it at him.

"Tell me, do you think that he's hot?"

"What?"

"Do you, Daniel James Howell, think that Phil is hot?"

Dan's heart suddenly picked up, and he doubted that his face had returned to its normal color. He gulped. God, was he actually about to admit out loud to something like that? Because _fuck,_ even concussed him remembered the general attractiveness of Phil, and every one of the few past times that Phil had wandered into the coffee shop Dan had unmistakably found him just as cute, just as handsome, just as attractive. Even when Phil had stumbled through the glass door right before Dan's shift ended on Thursday in what was obviously his pajamas, a tired look on his face, he still found the guy to be some incredible eye candy.

But under no circumstance did the fact that Phil was attractive as hell, just as funny, and interested in overall the same things as Dan mean that Dan liked him like _that._ His feelings were strictly platonic. Completely. Surely.

"Well, yeah." Dan settled on, his voice quiet. Jaime nodded as if she had been expecting the answer.

"Do you want to kiss him, maybe? Something else?"

Dan froze, mid chew. Something in his heart started to hurt. Maybe he was dying. _Or maybe you're just scared because you can't answer that truthfully without outing yourself as ace._

"Can we talk about something else?" Dan asked, his voice small. Jaime looked at him curiously, but nodded after a moment. Dan had to keep in his sigh of relief.

"Yeah, okay, sure. Here, we don't even have to watch for the weather anymore, we'll stay in and watch netflix, alright?" She asked. Dan nodded. Jaime flipped on netflix just as Phil came back on the screen, and Dan wanted to cry because he didn't know if he was relieved or not when Phil's blue blue eyes were replaced by the red N on the loading screen.

Dan didn't end up contributing to the choice of what they should watch, but Jaime flicked on _The Office_ which he was grateful for. It was something old and familiar that they watched together a lot, which was good because he didn't want to have to try and pay attention to following a new plot. They settled together on the couch, on top of each other, Dan leaning on Jaime, who was carding her fingers through his hair like she always did when he wasn't feeling well.

When the episode had just gotten through a couple of minutes, she leaned down.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or push you or anything, I was just trying to help. You know I don't care if you actually like him. _Mi dispiace, amore._ "

"It's okay, I know. Don't get all sappy on me, maraschino." He smiled at her, and she grinned softly back, fondly. Dan could easily tell that she felt bad for it, and while that made something in him feel warm to know that she cared so much, he just wished that he could give her a reason as to why he had reacted the way he had.

_Maybe when I figure it out myself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty folks there we go, chapter 5 is up! This is also going to pretty much be the last chapter before things start to really focus on the slow burn! Prepare your gay selves!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH
> 
> Sorry, but this chapter got WAY too long, so instead of finishing it, I decided to cut it in half. You guy's will get the second half next time, don't worry, but just keep in mind that not everything I wanted to do was in this chapter. I felt like an almost 10k chapter was too long oops ^^;

Dan and Jaime had both played hookie and taken off the next day, on Sunday. They ended up going to the movies like they had originally planned the day before, and walked around Manchester after, buying way too many snacks from street vendors and whirling through stores, sometimes purchasing things, sometimes not. Dan ended up with a new jumper and a pair of ripped jeans that actually made his legs look good and not just like he'd robbed his trousers off of a homeless man.

However, Dan couldn't just afford to take days off on his schedule whenever he wanted, and he was right back in that caffeine-saturated building bright and early Monday morning. Jaime wasn't with him—she was scheduled for a later shift and would arrive sometime this afternoon—so it was quieter than normal, and a perfect recreation of last Monday's morning.

_Hopefully I won't dance in front of any strangers, then, if this is Last Monday Pt 2._

With that thought, Dan's brain immediately switched to thinking about the downright mysterious man who had found his way, literally, stumbling into Dan's life.

Phil had very obviously been in last Monday, and the Wednesday after, but he had also ended up showing up this past Friday as well, and _god,_ Dan wished that that encounter hadn't happened. He had been in the bathroom only to come back and find Jaime talking with Phil as if they were the closest of old friends, laughing together, Jaime's hand close to her mouth as if she was telling him a secret. Dan still didn't know what they had talked to each other about, but when Jaime went to go "see about something in the back" when she noticed Dan, she had given him a wink. Phil's face had also been flushed, and he had had what Dan could only equate to a slightly embarrassed, slightly pleased smile.

Dan flicked his eyes to the glass door. He had opened the store all of four minutes ago, but there was still a little part of him that was wondering…

_Maybe he'll come back today?_

Dan wasn't sure if he wanted to get his hopes up, not really. Sure, Phil was entertaining, a really fun guy to be around, the fucking _weatherman,_ mind you _,_ and he was really damn attractive, but Jaime had told him a lot that Phil had been flirting with him, and the thought that Phil wanted a romantic relationship with him turned his stomach. Dan didn't date people because of his horrid-at-best history with significant others, and he really didn't want to have to go into anything like that with Phil. He was content to try a friendship with the guy if it happened, but other than that, sign him the fuck out.

Thankfully, the day didn't start out _completely_ just like last Monday. The shop was anything but dead, and Dan would think that it was a holiday or something with the stream of people that wouldn't stop coming in. It was a bit much for just Dan to manage, and if he hadn't been working for as long as he had as a barista, he was certain that it would have been hell to deal with so many people in such a short time. The good thing was that all of the traffic kept him busy. He was making lattes and espressos and dinks with little foam designs, and before he knew it, time was flying by. It was no longer early morning, but a little past one in the afternoon and the past six-ish hours felt like a blink, but Dan was glad for the lull. He had been on his feet rushing around to fill orders all morning, and it kind of sucked, so Dan just slumped against the counter, exhaling for what seemed like the first time all day.

Dan's stomach grumbled angrily and he pressed his palm to his abdomen, the corner of his lip pulling down. He'd forgotten about breakfast this morning.

He looked around the coffee shop. There were about a half dozen people besides himself, and none of them were paying Dan any attention, nor did they seem like they were going to need his assistance anytime soon.

Dan made himself a coffee because after six hours of non-stop labor he deserved it, and picked out one of the wrapped sandwiches that they sold. He couldn't take a full on lunch break like he may have wanted to because there was no one too cover the store while he ate and took a half an hour to relax, so Dan just dragged a chair up next to the counter and sat down, letting out a deep sigh.

Working a double shift all alone sucked ass, but Dan didn't mind too much in the instance that the only other person who would be able to work a shift like this with him besides Jaime was Steve. And fuck, that guy was an asshole. So really, Dan would take working himself harder than normal then having to subject him to shitty company when he didn't have to.

He ate quicker than normal, the hunger in his stomach multiplying once he started eating. God, he should never skip breakfast. It only fucked him over later. _Oh you're hungry? You skipped a meal? Well you better eat twice your weight if you want any chance of feeling full ever again._

Dan's sandwich was gone from his hands before he knew it, so he sipped his coffee, too lazy to get up and grab another. He'd eat something small later when he had a moment while working. The caffeine was starting to work through his system now too, and he could feel a bit of his lost energy coming back.

His break didn't last all that long, though—barely fifteen minutes—before the crowds were back and he had to help his fellow human beings get their caffeine fix.

Over the course of the next hour or so, Dan was back to working just like he had this morning with the amount of people walking into the store. He had to have sold a record amount of coffee for a single day, and he still had several hours left to his shift when Jaime would take over. It was kind of incredible, and if Dan maybe wasn't the one behind the counter, he might have found it a little impressive.

The next lull he had was some time later, at about four-thirty, and once the girl he had just served walked away, Dan had his hand in the opened bag of crisps behind the counter. He was starving and _really_ wished that he had eaten something more than a medium coffee and a small sandwich.

Dan had his face full, mid-chew when someone walked up to the counter. He had the undeniable air of a uni student, a bag slung over his shoulder and wearing some sort of combination of pajamas and street clothes that only broke and in-debt twenty-something university college students would deem acceptable.

Not that Dan really had any room to talk. He looked like a hobo at the best of times as well.

"Hi, could I bother you for another shot of espresso? Or two, actually? I have a late shift tonight that I've got to get to, and I won't be able to study for my test until like, 3AM. I need all of the caffeine I can get right now." he said sheepishly, holding out his drink. Dan raised his eyebrows. He remembered this guy the first time he had served him, and Dan had already put three shots of espresso in initially at his request.

"You sure?" He asked, taking the cup. It was about half empty. "I mean I get it crash studying is pretty important but jeez that sounds like a death wish. Not to mention pretty tasteless."

The guy laughed, a wide smile on his face. He looked a lot nicer when he was smiling. Less glum and like he was about to keel over.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. The sacrifices we take for a degree, huh?" He yawned before he could add anything past that, a hand covering his mouth. "You know what? Make it two, please. You don't have to bother refilling the drink, I'll just take the espresso. Pray for me, I might not make it out of this alive."

Dan snorted as he popped the lid off of the cup and put it under the espresso maker. Two shots. Dan used one of the little straws to mix up the still-steaming contents of the cup. He looked over at the guy standing there, watching Dan work. He had about the same build as Dan did and if just being able to smell the drink seemed to alert Dan's senses, this guy was definitely going to not be sleeping for _quite_ a while. Dan pitied him for the caffeine crash that was going to fuck this guy's ass like a speeding truck. Dan reached out for a new lid for the cup—company policy—but there weren't any more large-sized lids and his hand grazed the bare table-top. Fuck, he must have run out.

"Here, one sec," Dan said, passing the open coffee cup to the guy. Dan dropped down, opening the cabinet under the counter and moving aside. He heard the glass door open, the little bell ringing for the millionth time today, and internally groaned. _Can't even get a fucking break._

He came back up, a stack of the little plastic lids in his hands, grabbing one and depositing the rest off to the side where the medium and small lids were. Dan noticed the guy's eyes following his body, and it rolled his stomach and tied it into knots simultaneously, but he tried to ignore it and handed the lid over. The guy clicked it on.

"Do I owe you anything for that..?" He asked. Dan could feel his skin crawling, but he didn't try to kill the friendly smile on his face even if it was strained.

"Nah, no need to pay your executioner," he joked, silently hoping that this guy would go away. He laughed, but Dan didn't, just still choosing to stand there with that god-awful feeling rising in his chest.

"Thanks. My name's Jon, but my friends call me Jonny." He bit his lip, and while Dan might have been oblivious, even _he_ knew that this guy was now flirting with him. He had had his suspicions when he noticed Jon's gaze on his ass, but Dan's hopes that this guy would stop at blind lust were apparently in vain.

Dan gave him a strangled smile. _Walk away walk away walk away-_

Jon opened his mouth to say something else, but behind him someone cleared his throat. Jon jumped a little, clearly expecting it just as little as Dan had, and gave Dan a nervous smile, but stepped away.

"Sorry, I'll let you get back to work. Maybe I'll see you around, then-" he said, dragging out the 'n' and squinting at the nametag on Dan's shirt, "-Dan."

Jon gave Dan one last toothy grin and a wave, turning on his heel and walking towards the exit. Dan still felt uncomfortable, still had the lump in his chest, still wanted to duck behind the counter and hide, but he tore his gaze away from Jon. Dan had a job to do and apparently Jon's flirting had pissed off the person behind him, so Dan would be better off not adding fuel to that fire. He didn't want to deal with a miserable customer on top of it all.

"Uh, hi how can I- _Phil?_ " Dan sputtered, his eyes going wide as he saw Phil standing there, head turned towards Jon's retreating form, a frown on his face, something fiery in his eye. _Phil was the one that was behind Jon? Oh_ **_fuck_ ** _that means he saw him flirting with me. Shit what if he thinks I'm okay with that and he tried something shit shit shi-_

Phil's attention flicked to Dan's and _god_ those blue blue eyes were _stormy._ His shoulders were tense and his face wasn't anywhere close to how open it always was. It was closed off behind what seemed like a brick wall.

In short, Phil looked pissed at best, ready to deck someone at worst.

"I-are you...okay?"

Phil let out a breath—a massive sigh, really—and let his eyes close for a moment. When they opened they weren't as dark, and the lines of his body weren't as sharp, but it still seemed strikingly obvious to Dan that something was up with him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just, ah, just tired, that's all."  
Bullshit. It wasn't even a convincing lie. Dan opened his mouth to call Phil out on it and ask what was _really_ wrong and why he looked like he had just been thirty seconds from fighting someone (that someone who was yet to be determined) but he stopped himself. He and Phil didn't really know each other—not _really_ —and they certainly didn't know each other enough for Dan to call BS, right? That was something that friends did. Were they even friends?

Dan didn't know, and he didn't know if that was a question that someone just asked another person, so he just dropped it, nodding a little robotically and giving a non-committal hum that could mean either _"I know exactly what you mean, very relatable"_ or _"we both know you're lying"_ and decided to let Phil figure it out.

"Okay. Would you, uh, like a coffee?" Dan asked. His voice sounded all wrong in his ears and his entire mind seemed to just be screaming the same thing: _Why are you so damn_ **_awkward_ ** _?_

And to that, Dan didn't have an answer.

"Yeah, a caramel macchiato, if you wouldn't mind."

And like every other drink he's made today, Dan's hands almost flew on their own accord, but his mind was elsewhere, entirely.

Phil certainly had quite the ability to appear out of nowhere when Dan was the least prepared for dealing with him. No, that wasn't right, that made it sound as if Phil was a problem. And he wasn't, not at all, not even _close_ , he just...was so _different_ . It was as if Dan didn't know how to act around the guy, and could anyone really blame him? Dan's run into him mid-sink into a depressive episode, been caught dancing—which he _didn't do_ —to Muse by the guy, and just now, too, when Dan was uncomfortable as fuck and being flirted with, Phil was there.

And _fuck,_ why did it matter so much to Dan? Why in hell was it apparently important enough for Dan to stress himself over it while he was making Phil's _coffee._

Phil looked much more relaxed when Dan handed him the coffee, and the faint smile on his lips was enough to assure Dan that whatever had angered Phil wasn't too bad, if he was smiling already.

"This is probably going to sound weird, but do you not work Sundays?"

Dan looked up from the register where he was ringing up Phil's order. He felt a little bit of heat crawl up his face. Jaime saying _he's flirting with you_ seemed to bounce around in Dan's skull, but he prayed that it didn't show, just letting a little smirk on his face and throwing up the first defense mechanism that he used when he wasn't sure if he was reading a situation wrong: sarcasm and humor.

"You haven't even told me your last name yet but you're asking me for my work schedule?" Dan cocked an eyebrow to make the ruse work. He was still feeling a bit off, and he didn't need Phil to know that.

Phil's eyes went wide and if he had been drinking at the moment, Dan was sure that he would have spit it out.

"What no, no! I didn't—I mean—not like, I-"

Dan laughed and waved away Phil's panic.

"Phil, I'm _joking,_ it's okay. I work everyday except for Saturday, more times than not. Every once in awhile my schedule will get altered or something, but I pretty much am in day in and day out." Dan said, giggling uncontrollably, trying in vain to calm his laughter because frankly, Phil freaking out over possibly offending Dan or something like that was funny as _shit._

(and adorable, but that thought didn't even have to be acknowledged by Dan himself)

"Wait a minute, did you come in yesterday to come see me or something?" Dan said, stopping himself. Phil's face went bright red and his eyes went _wider_ , and Dan couldn't help the grin from spreading across his face as Phil tried to find some excuse. He seemed to give up, however, after a moment.

"Uh, yeah, I might have," Phi squeaked out, rubbing the back of his head. He looked like a goddamn little kid admitting to stealing biscuits before dinner for fuck's _sake._

Dan didn't really know how to respond to that—did anyone?—so all he did was keep the smile on his face and roll his eyes a little.

"And, it's Lester."  
"Excuse me?"

"You mentioned that you didn't know my last name, and it's Lester."

"Oh. Phil Lester. It has a nice ring to it." Dan seemed to be rambling, but he doubted that he could stop himself at this point.

"What about you? Or should I keep thinking of you as Dan The Guy Who Makes My Coffees?"

"It's Howell." Dan muttered, breaking their eye contact.

"Dan Howell?" Phil asked, a sudden serious glint in his eye. Dan gulped.

"Yeah?" Fuck there goes his anxiety. Off the charts once again.

"Can I have a donut?"  
"Oh fuck you!" Dan whined, poking Phil in the shoulder, who was giggling like a mad man, a hand in front of his mouth. "Here I was, thinking you were going to ask me something all serious and all that, and you ask me for a fucking _donut?_ The _nerve!_ "

Phil was laughing hard enough that almost no sound was coming out, and his eyes got all squinty. His hand had dropped away to lay on his chest and Dan could see the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he giggled.

"You should have seen your face!" Phil breathed, and Dan poked him again, but it wasn't with malice. He was smiling himself. Widely, in fact.

_This shithead…_

When Phil stopped laughing, he looked up back at Dan, a grin splitting his face.

"I hate you."  
"No you don't. At least, you do a really bad job at showing it, Dan."

"Mhm. You say that like we're friends. True friends would tell each other things like the fact that they're the weatherman, or not try and lowkey stalk them at work, or-"  
"Wait a minute, how do you know that I'm the weatherman?"  
This time, it was Dan's turn to blush, and he did, heavily, the events of Saturday jumping to the front of his consciousness.

"Saturday I was hanging out with Jaime, and we uh, wanted to know when it would stop raining? So she must have found the local channel, and low and behold you were on it, broadcasting the fucking _weather._ "

Phil blushed, a nervous little laugh bubbling out from his chest.

"I wouldn't give myself that much credit, really. I'm just a part-time unpaid intern part-time employee trying to earn some experience out there and put my name out. I wasn't supposed to actually be _telling_ the weather, but turns out the camera must, ah, love me. At least that's what my boss says."

"Still, Phil, I quite literally choked on a piece of popcorn when you're smiling face just appeared on Jaime's TV with a cloud themed tie."

"You _what?_ "

"Yeah, I wouldn't believe it myself. But there you were, and there I was, like, dying. I should demand compensation for the trauma I've been through."  
"What are you going to do, take me to court?"

"Hmm, maybe. You'll hear from my attorney, certainly. Or, probably. I dunno, I've still got to think about what kinds of charges I'm going to press against you. And get an attorney." Dan said, and really, the levels of sarcasm they were single-handedly projecting were astounding.

"Okay, here," Phil said, reaching over and easily picking Dan's phone out of his jeans pocket the sides of his fingers brushing up against the black denim. The action so _casual_ and Phil was so damn _confident_ about it, that Dan just sucked in his breath and watched, open mouthed, as Phil clicked the phone screen on.

"Password?" he asked, turning the phone around. Dan reached out, typed it in, but it was like he was in a daze. Was this really happening?

Phil started typing something, and then snapped a photo of his coffee. He handed Dan his phone back, and bright and new on Dan's screen was a contact titled **_Phil Lester (is amazing!!)_ **. The icon was a picture of the top of Phil's caramel macchiato, only his pale hand visible.

"There you go, let me know when you figure it out, okay? I've got to get to my part-time at Tesco's, but I'll see you around?"

"Uh, yeah. Yes. See you, Phil."

Phil smiled, and Dan smiled back before he even realized he was completing the action. Phil smiled so he smiled back. It was that simple.

He turned and walked away, and Dan's eyes followed his lanky frame the entire time. He watched as Phil opened the door—that tiny bell sounding—and stepped outside. And when Phil passed by the huge floor-to-ceiling window that made up the majority of the one wall and waved to Dan, that big grin still on his face, Dan couldn't help the laugh that spilled from his lips just as much as he couldn't stop his hand waving back.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Dan was serving two girls when he caught sight of a forgotten pastry, pushed off to the side of the counter. It took him a moment, but the dots connected almost simultaneously, and as soon as the two girls were gone, Dan was whipping out his phone, scrolling through his contacts to the newest one. He typed out a message and his thumb hesitated over the send button, but Dan shook his head and pressed it. Too late to go back now.

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

I still havent figured out the charges

but

you forgot ur donut you spork

[Multimedia message]

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

D:

I'm at work rn, what time do you close?

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

um real late, like 10

but my shift's over at 6

so it'll be jaime and some teenager probs

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

:'(((

fiiiiinnnnneeeee

I'll have to pick up my donut later won't I?

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

uh yeah, i guess

or u can come in tomorrow or smth if like

u dont want to be wandering into a coffee

shop at 10 at night

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

what, you would like save the donut or smth?

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

lester if u think if ur coming back tomorrow

im not going to eat this donut u are gravely

mistaken

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

wow dan I cant believe you dan

actually no I can

I've got to get back to work

see you tomorrow?

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

have fun

and yeah i'll still be here in this caffeinated

hell, so, see you, lester

 

Dan looked up from his phone as a trio walked in, chatting among themselves. He slipped his phone in his pocket (his _back_ pocket this time, thanks a lot Phil) and threw a smile on his face. It was the easiest he had smiled all day.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BOY I LOVE USING MY OWN LIFE AS INSPIRATION FOR A FIC AND REWRITING IT LIKE 7 TIMES OVER THE COURSE OF LIKE A WEEK
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO  
> everyone shower PhilTrashNo164 with like a ton of love for reading this over and helping me with it

"Stop being so smiley, you arse. It’s 6:30AM and you’re at work. Smiling should be illegal."

Dan snorted, taking a break from pouring coffee beans to shove Jaime with his shoulder, but he didn't even try to help the smile on his face. 

Jaime only scowled deeper in response, sticking out her pierced tongue.

“You should take that out,” Dan said. “Health and Safety. Plus, you don’t want to scare the grandpas with your metal appendages”.

Jaime snorted. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do. Leave my life. Goodbye.  _ Ciao. _ "

"Fine, then I guess you'll have to dye your hair by yourself. And gee, who are you going to talk to during your shifts? Steve? God, I think he’d have to take up my shifts, which puts the two of you together almost all the time," Dan said, walking away, trying to keep the grin out of his voice. He wasn't very successful, however, but then again, he hadn't actually tried very hard, either. 

Jaime threw a cloth at him. It landed on his face, then fell to the ground.

“Health and Safety!” Dan screeched. “Is that floor mopped?” 

She just rolled her eyes. "I've managed the first eighteen or so years of my life before you decided to jump in just  _ fine _ without you, so go ahead, take your lanky ass outside along with your 'I'm getting off of work early'  _ bullshit. _ "

"Ahhh, the truth reveals itself," Dan  _ tsked,  _ shaking his head. “Jealousy is a sin, you know.” He was playing with her, and she knew it, but that didn't stop Dan from pulling out all of the stops, really hamming up his performance. He grabbed the keys off of the counter and walked to the glass entrance door, unlocking it and flipping over the sign to read:  **_open_ ** .

Jaime was sitting on the counter, her arms crossed and that fake scowl of anger still on her face. Dan just pushed at her back, forcing her off. 

"Come on, Grumps, we've got a job to do."

"We? What do you mean with that 'we'? You're the one leaving here early, Danny boy, so you get to do all the work this morning; it's only fair."

This time Dan was the one that scowled and Jaime just smirked, tapping his nose. 

"Come on stupid, turn that frown upside down; Mary's about to walk in."

Dan sighed, drawing it out as much as possible, but immediately snapping out of it and throwing a smile on his face when he heard the bell chime on the store's door.

Mary was a sweet old lady that was at least in her 80's, and she always came into their coffee shop within the first few moments that they were open, everyday, without fail. She had the most acute sense of style, typically rocking your usual old lady jumper and pants, but every single day she had a different broach on. And before her, Dan hadn't even known that people  _ wore  _ broaches anymore. But nope, it appeared that Mary had no cares for which way fashion swayed, not to mention that she must have her own infinite supply of them to have a different one every day. Did she have some kind of broach dealer? Was that a thing?

Dan didn't really know the answer to that question, but she was incredibly kind and had pretty much adopted him and Jaime as her grandchildren, so Dan just made sure to compliment her on her choice of style. 

She shuffled up to the counter, her usual smile already radiating even though it was way too fucking early for anyone to be doing anything instead of sleeping in Dan's opinion. 

(Today her broach was a yellow-ish metal, an intricate flower melded into it. It looked like lavender.)

"Hello, love, how are you today?"

"Oh, hello, Mary. And I'm tired, but I'm doing fine, thank you." Dan said. He had already started making her coffee. She ordered the same thing every time.

"Tired? Daniel, what did I say about staying up late on the internet? You're a growing boy! You need your sleep!" she cried. Dan smiled, not missing how she called him 'Daniel', but it wasn't like Dan minded it, coming from her. She was like the grandmother Dan never had. Maybe that was why he liked her using his full name even if his nametag said 'Dan'. It was more personal. 

"Sorry, Mary, it's a bad habit, I know. I'll break it one of these days, I promise."

"Hmm, will you, Daniel? I feel like you say that to me every morning." Mary wagged a finger at Dan as if to admonish him, but there was a twinkle in her eye. Dan shrugged, but his smile only got wider. He handed Mary her coffee (with extra milk) and she looked over next to Dan, where Jaime was leaning on the counter a little bit in the back. 

"Jaime dear, tell me, you must do everything around here with how tired this boy is all the time, don't you?"

Dan and Jaime both laughed, and Jaime shook her head, taking a few steps forward, knocking her shoulder into Dan.

"Sometimes it certainly feels like that."

Mary paid for her coffee (they charged her half price and took turns covering the rest—but they'd never tell her) and she stayed for a few moments to talk with them. After telling Dan that he "better go to sleep earlier tonight" or he would be hearing from her, and telling the both of them to have a lovely day, she shuffled back out, her broach still sparkling and drawing on-looker's eyes. 

After Mary's visit, things always took somewhere between a fifteen minutes and a half hour before business really started to go anywhere, but today was different, and almost immediately after Mary left the store people started to come in, which both Dan and Jaime inwardly frowned at. Neither of them wanted to be here at the moment—not that they  _ ever  _ wanted to be here—and the prospect of getting some time to slack off and just fool around together in an empty store had been alluring. 

But duty calls, apparently. 

The first hour passed in a bit of a blur of overweight white CEO's trying to get their caffeine fix, early-morning joggers trying to recuperate their systems, and random small groups or duos walking in, meeting for coffee and chatting at the tables. 

After that, things slowed down a little, and Dan was able to slide his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked the screen, checking the time. Or that’s what he said to himself: there was a clock right in front of his face. He was just making excuses, at this point. Checking his phone every second like he had a crush—pathetic. 

His notifications  were empty, minus a reminder he had set a while ago so he didn't forget to pay his rent. A reminder that he needed reminding about, apparently. Damnit. Hopefully his landlord would let him off.

Dan frowned a little at the lack of a Phil-shaped notification, but slipped his phone away. He couldn't help but glance at the door, even if there was no one walking in at the moment. 

Phil had said he'd come today, right?

Dan at least hoped that he'd pop in for the doughnut he forgot before Dan's uncharacteristically short shift was over. Partly, because he didn't trust Jaime being alone with Phil at all. Partly because, well…

The little bell above the entrance to the shop dinged, and with it, Dan's head snapped up.  _ Damn what kind of timing was—oh.  _

A customer had walked in, yes, but it wasn't who Dan wanted to see right now. It was some guy he had never seen before and his young daughter,  _ not  _ a tall weatherman who happened to like caramel macchiatos. 

Dan helped them with their drinks, and even gave the girl a handful of extra marshmallows in her hot chocolate because Dan was weak for little kids with toothy grins, apparently.

The flow of customers slowed down further, and soon the crowds were gone, leaving the usual mid-morning lull, only a select few of the tables occupied. The windows were steamy after this morning's productivity, and the glass case up front next to the register was no exception. 

Dan dragged his finger down on his side of the glass, doodling without direction. Well, doodling was probably a generous term for what he was doing. It was more like scribbling, his finger tracing random lines and patterns in the condensation. He heard the bell chime again, and glanced behind him, to see where his best friend had found herself to be. Maybe she could take this order, and Dan could keep counting down the minutes until he was let out.

She wasn't behind the counter with him, but the one coffee machine was open, and looked like it was mid-clean. She was probably in the back grabbing more coffee, then.

Dan sighed, but managed to tear himself away from his empty entertainment only to _ —fuck. _

_ Phil  _ had just been the one to walk in—already walking up to the counter, actually—and when their eyes locked Phil smiled widely.

"Dan! I've come for my pastry, I just hope you haven't eaten them all, if I'm being honest.”

“It’s in his pocket. Or maybe he’s just glad to see you,” Jaime called loudly from the back, before Dan could even process what Phil had said. He felt his cheeks turn red.  _ Fuck. _

"Oh my  _ god _ Phil I'm-"

But Phil was laughing, and there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks too. He waved off Dan's protests with a wide smile. 

"Dan, Dan it's okay, I get it." Phil looked over Dan's shoulder. "Thanks for the clarification, Jaime!" he called, seemingly to not think twice about what Jaime had said. Dan, however, wasn't taking it in stride as well as Phil, evident by how enflamed his cheeks still were. 

"So, um, you uh, want a coffee, right? ”

“No, I want your hand in marriage,” Phil deadpanned. Dan heard Jaime laughing. The corner of Phil's mouth started to upturn, and Dan's heart was stuttering in his chest. What a day this was turning out to be.

But two could play at this game.

“I might need to get the ring resized,” Dan said, "but I guess there's only one way to find out." 

Phil blinked at him. “Wait, you-”

“Your hand, please.”

Phil did as he was told. Dan was certain he heard Jaime's sharp inhale of surprise all the way from the back. Dan held Phil's ring finger out. “Hmmm… might be a little small.”

“What are you-”

Dan extracted a bagel from the display, placing it onto Phil’s finger. “Oh! It fits beautifully!”

Phil blinked, but then he unfroze, his shoulders relaxing and little crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes from his giggle.

“Has anyone told you that you’re really weird?”

Dan smiled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

"Well, I've certainly never been proposed to with a bagel before, maybe it is a bad thing."

Dan let Phil's hand drop and rolled his eyes, but a weird feeling in his chest begged his attention. It was unfamiliar. Dan ignored it.

"You can keep the bagel, if you want—I can't exactly put it back into the display case. And in all honesty, did you want a coffee? Or did you just want to pop in for your doughnut that you  _ abandoned  _ like a  _ savage  _ yesterday?" Dan asked, his hand hovering by the stacks of cups, waiting to see if he would be making another caramel macchiato for Phil today.

"Hey, I was trying to be a productive member of society and  _ work, Daniel. _ "

"Forgive me, then,  _ Philip, _ " Dan said. There was a little nervous voice in his head at Phil's uttering of his full name. No, not quite  _ nervousness,  _ it was  _ something,  _ that was for sure. But exactly what was a mystery to Dan.

So like any other obstacle Dan faced that he didn't know how to handle, he ignored it.  

“Wow, I can feel the sexual tension from here,” Jaime drawled, walking up next to Dan. 

There it was. There it fucking was.

Dan snapped.

“Actually, Jaime can serve you,” Dan said, or rather, spat. He really didn’t mean to, but Jaime’s comment just—

“Dan?” Phil was saying, something soft and confused in his voice, “Did I do something?”

Dan pushed past Jaime and lifted up the divider that closed the counter off from the public, ignoring it all and shoving the  **_Employee's only_ ** door open roughly, stepping into the break room. He needed a fucking  _ break,  _ that was for sure.

“Dan?” He heard behind him, just before the door swung shut.

Jaime this time. Dan ignored them both.

Sex. Why did it always have to end with sex?

Dan sunk into a chair, a shaky breath passing his lips, his head falling into his hands, the anger melting straight out of him, just leaving the sadness, the pain, the  _ hurt _ . 

Phil was probably confused as hell right now, and fuck it, Jaime would be too, but _goddamnit_ Dan couldn't _do_ _this_ to himself.

_ Pull it together, pull it together, pull it- _

A lump had formed rapidly in Dan's throat, and a black feeling had made itself home in his ribcage. He knew it well. Knew it better than himself, it seemed like, sometimes. 

Loneliness, isolation, all based on the lack of feeling something that  _ everyone else in the whole fucking world felt. _ Fuck, he couldn't do this, not here, not now. He had less than an hour before his shift was over and he could leave. He could mourn his lack of humanity then. 

But god, was that just wishful thinking, because Dan's head seemed to become heavier than the world itself—there was no way that his neck could be able to lift his skull from where it was being cradled by his hands. 

His eyes were wet, and  _ god, just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it,  _ he was fine. Peachy. It was a stupid comment made by his best friend that didn't mean anything. There were probably dozens of them made across the world every moment, so why the  _ fuck  _ did he have to care so much? 

Salty tears were starting to slide down the curves of his wrist from where his palms were digging into his eyes.

Fuck, was it even worth lying to himself about anymore? Of the pretending? Of course he knew why he cared so much. Of fucking  _ course  _ he did. He didn't  _ feel  _ sexual attraction. He would never be able to be attracted to Phil that way (even if he was at  _ all  _ because he  _ wasn't,  _ Phil was a  _ friend _ ). There  _ never  _ would be "sexual tension" for Jaime to feel. 

Never.

Because Dan was Dan, and a normal, happy ending just didn't seem to be in his fate.

Because Dan was ace.

Because he would never be attracted to people like that.

Because no one would  _ ever  _ want someone as broken as him who couldn't even  _ feel  _ correctly.

A muffed sob tore itself from Dan's throat, and it  _ hurt.  _ His body physically ached with the longing to be someone he was not and feel something he couldn't.

_ Fucking  _ **_hell_ ** _ Dan, you fucking  _ **_idiot._ **

Dan was gasping against his shaking fingers, tears clouding his vision. He gritted his teeth and groaned, digging his fingernails into his palms. 

Jaime was going to come for him, most likely as soon as she could properly step away from the counter. If she saw him here, curled up on himself, crying over a  _ stupid  _ comment she made then she wouldn't take Dan telling her that " _ everything was fine" _ for an answer. He would be forced to tell her, and damnit Dan didn't want to ruin another relationship, especially one as important and meaningful to him as the one he had with Jaime. A memory surfaced of someone who had promised to love him. 

_ "I can't believe this whole time you were a fucking freak and you didn't tell me. Asexual? God, Dan, that's just a fucking seven-letter cry for help." _

Dan abruptly stood up and clenched his hands at his sides. There were tears still escaping his eyes and his breaths were still slightly hiccuped, but he just raised his chin and bit his lip. His shoulders were shaking but _it_ _didn't matter because he was fine._

He was doubtful that anything but his sheer force of will calmed his racing heart and his trembling body, but there was no part of Dan that cared nor was up for thinking about it. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the camera. His eyes weren't too red. Dan used the corner of his shirt to wipe away the tear tracks and ran his fingers through his hair to fix his straightened fringe. He looked at the time before hiding away his phone. He'd been in here for roughly ten minutes. It didn't feel that long, that was for sure. 

Dan took another deep breath and grabbed the door handle, not opening it yet. He closed his eyes.  _ You're fine, you're fine, you're fine. _

He opened the door, wiping away all traces of his breakdown off of his face and replacing it with a mask that he wore well after years of use. 

Jaime's head flicked immediately to Dan as he emerged, but she was in the middle of making a coffee, a queue of at least a half dozen people in front of her. She'd be busy for a little.  _ Good.  _

Dan passed her, not saying anything, just reaching over the counter to grab one of the rags they used to clean up the self-serving bar and walking away. Dan took his time cleaning up the spilled sugar and milk, fixing up the various advertisements for their specialty drinks they sold, and refilling the straws and napkin dispenser even though they didn't really need it. The entire time he worked, his thoughts rolled and crashed like thunder in his head, pulling his train of thought this way and that and in every direction that it  _ didn't  _ need to go. By the time that Dan was finishing up, the whole thing was spotless and he only had about ten minutes before his shift was over.

"Dan?"

Dan jumped, not even realizing that someone was standing next to him, and he turned. Phil was a few steps away, a coffee cup in his hand, a remorseful look on his face. His shoulders were dropped and his eyes were sad, and overall it seemed as if all of the enthusiasm that Dan associated with Phil had been sucked out of him. 

There was a pang in Dan's chest upon seeing Phil's happiness so curbed, especially when it was  _ all Dan's fault,  _ **_fuck._ **

"I just want to say I'm sorry for earlier, that's all. I-I shouldn't have joked like that, and I'm  _ really  _ sorry if I offended you or something, I  _ swear  _ I didn't mean to, Dan, but I'm sorry." Phil said, his voice soft, those blue  _ blue _ eyes pleading. 

For a moment, Dan just stared, but he blinked, coming out of his haze.

"Phil...it's not your fault I promise. It wasn't even you, actually." Dan raised a hand when Phil opened his mouth as if to protest. "Thank you for your apology, but like I said, it wasn't you. It was stupid, anyways. I shouldn't have reacted like I had." Dan was pouring everything he couldn't say into his eyes. It was fruitless to think that Phil would understand him, but even if it was in vain Dan would still do nothing but hope.

"Dan, if something upset you then it matters."

"Phil, I promise you this doesn't."  _ I don't. _

Dan rubbed his face, sighing. He couldn't explain it to Phil. Phil would only despise him. When he pulled his hand away, Dan's eyes settled on Steve walking through the glass entrance in his work uniform. He was a few minutes early, but Dan was fine with that; he had to get out of here. 

"Could I ask when your break is?" Phil said, the words pulling all of Dan's attention to him. 

"What?"

"Like, um, you get a break, right? I was wondering when it was because I kind of wanted to talk with you like we always do, but there's a, uh, bunch of people in line and stuff and I don't want to bother you when you're working. Not that you have to spend your break with me! No, it was just a question, I-god, I'm making an embarrassment of myself." Phil groaned after stumbling through his attempt at an explanation. 

Dan could still feel that black emotion in his chest, and like every single time that it decided to surface itself, he wanted to find his way to his bed and curl up and have a proper cry, but there was a sudden and tremendous internal outcry, his body and mind shouting  _ don't leave me alone.  _

Phil didn't want to deal with Dan and his problems, however. That was fact for certain. 

Yet, Dan still found his mouth opening and words spilling forth against his will. Mutiny. He wanted to scream. Why couldn't his own self let him self destruct in peace?

"I don't have a break today, actually. I'm leaving early."

"Oh?" Phil's eyebrows bent upwards, a shy smile spreading across his face. "Would you, maybe want to do something, then? You don't have to-"   
"Phil," Dan said, stopping him, still in an internal turmoil, "that sounds perfect."

Phil smiled, a true and proper grin that lit up his whole face. 

"When do you get off?"

"Now, actually. Wait here."  
Dan didn't wait for an answer, but rather walked past him and up to the counter, putting the rag he had been using back where it went. Jaime must have heard him because she turned her head from where she was facing away from Dan, making a coffee, her eyes going wide, mouth opening. It hurt him to do so, but he kept going and ignored her for a second time today. He once again stepped through the **_Employee's only_** door, grabbing his jacket off of the hook on the wall. Steve was in there, but they only locked eyes for a second before Dan turned away. He slipped it on as he found his way back to where Phil was still standing, minus his coffee cup. He must have finished it. 

"You sure about this, Dan?"

"Obviously, Lester. C'mon."

Phil was right in step with Dan, holding the glass door open for the brunet. Dan stepped through, feeling the cool breeze blow against his face and ruffle his hair. Dan felt Jaime's eyes dig into his back and his phone vibrated in his pocket, but Dan didn't pull it out. He knew it would he her.

He and Phil fell into step. They weren't talking at the moment, but the silence wasn't oppressive. It felt right. It felt like they were acknowledging everything. 

Dan's head was still flooding, filled to the brim with things that he didn't want to think about, but at least it seemed like the rest of him was agreeing to spending some impromptu time with Phil. 

"I think you need some cheering up. Are you okay with me taking you somewhere?" Phil asked, breaking the silence. They were a few blocks away from the coffee shop at his point, and Dan had just been blindly following Phil the whole time. 

"Cheering up, huh?" He asked. The normal, quietly sarcastic edge had returned to his voice. 

"Yeah. How about it?"

"Where would we be going?"

"A surprise."

Dan flicked his eyes to Phil, who was already looking at him. His eyes were intense, and Dan couldn't keep the gaze. He was too vulnerable to.

"Sure."

He didn't have to be looking at Phil to know that the man was smiling right now, and for some reason that put a little grin on Dan's face. 

A surprise. He hadn't had one of those in a while. 

They fell into easy conversation, Phil obviously leading it and choosing topics that would require Dan to listen more than actively participate. Dan was grateful for Phil's cheeriness and understanding, and as a bonus, he learned more about who he was walking with. 

Phil had spent a large time at uni producing little self-made films before he had chosen to pursue meteorology because of a child-like love for the weather. He like to play video games and dreamed of getting a corgi one day. He was from up north. He hated cheese.

"You hate cheese? How can someone hate  _ cheese? _ " Dan screeched, interrupting Phil. He couldn't help it. Not liking cheese? Was it possible?

"I don't know! It's just weird! It doesn't taste good and the texture isn't good and it's just  _ ew. _ " Phil said, pulling a face. 

"Oh my god."

"Hey!"

"Do you eat pizza? Shit if you're one of those people that eats pizza without cheese then this friendship is cancelled."

"No, I love pizza, don't worry."

"But you hate cheese?"

"I never said I made any sense."

Dan was still giving Phil an incredulous look, and Phil snorted and shook his head. Dan was about to ask him if there was any other food out there that was such a  _ blasphemy  _ to hate that Phil disliked, but Phil's face lit up and he wrapped his fingers around Dan's wrist, dragging him over to the left.

"Here we are!"

In front of Dan and Phil was the Manchester Eye, a popular ferris wheel that Dan had yet to visit even if he had been living in Manchester for years now.

"The Manchester Eye?"

"Yes! Tell me you've been, because the view at the top is absolutely incredible. You can't have bad thoughts when you're up that high and looking at something so beautiful; it's just impossible."

_ Impossible, eh? We'll see, Lester. _

Phil was still holding onto Dan's wrist, and normally, Dan would have pulled away at the touch by now, but for whatever reason, he didn't. Phil led him into the line, dropping Dan's wrist when they had to buy their tickets. Dan reached for his own wallet, but Phil waved him away, refusing to let Dan pay.

"This is your surprise, so you  _ don't  _ get to pay for it."

They were ushered onto the ride by the attendant, and because there was no one else waiting, they didn't have to run the risk of being put with strangers. 

Their conversation had died down, and neither of them tried to revive it, choosing to just stay silent. When they got to the top, however, Dan couldn't help but suck in a breath. 

Calling views like this "breathtaking" were cliche and overused in Dan's opinion, but he didn't really know another way to describe it. Manchester was splayed out before his eyes and for the first time, Dan thought of the city as more than the hell hole that he lived in. It was almost something beautiful.

Phil was smiling when Dan turned to him, but Dan didn't really care.

"Oh my god, Phil, you were right. I can't believe I haven't been on this before."   
"Beautiful, huh?"

"Yeah."

Phil ended up walking Dan home, after that, and when Dan was standing in front of his apartment complex, waving goodbye to Phil, he couldn't help but wish that their day together had lasted longer. 

And in reality, it had lasted much longer than expected. They had finally crossed the boundary of just seeing each other when Dan was at work, and even disregarding that, they took the long way around town just to keep talking. 

Phil was much more fun to be around than Dan realized. He was more than just talkative like Dan originally thought, but he was sweet and caring and had the strangest mannerisms and personality, but it wasn't annoying, merely endearing. He was like the sun, and Dan had always been one to bask in warmth.

"Bye, Dan!" Phil called, walking away. Dan smiled.

"See you, Phil!"

He climbed the steps to his flat, hands in his pockets, still riding the wave that was being anywhere near Phil Lester and spending time with him. 

In his flat, Dan kicked his shoes off and stripped himself of his jacket, pulling his work shirt over his head and leaving himself bare chested before falling back onto his couch. It was mid afternoon, but it already felt like midnight. Dan reached onto the floor where his jacket laid rumpled and fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it. He sent a quick text to Jaime, telling her not to worry and that he was fine, just tired, which was why he had reacted the way he had. 

Twenty minutes later, he got a text, and Dan paused his game of flappy bird. He was surprised, however, to see that it wasn't a response from Jaime, but a text from Phil.

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ dan look at this dog!!!!! _

 

A second text came through instantly, a link this time. Dan clicked it, and twitter popped up, showing him a video of a cute labrador chasing bubbles. Dan laughed, scrolling up to retweet it, but one of the replies caught his eye.

 

**AmazingPhil:** _ 10/10 doggo content!!! _

 

_ AmazingPhil?  _ Dan clicked on the reply, and up came a twitter feed. Specifically,  _ Phil's  _ twitter feed. Dan started to scroll, finding himself laughing. Looks like Phil's twitter was just as enjoyable as he was in person.

Dan pressed the  **_follow_ ** button before backspacing and opening his messages once again. 

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ i  would die for that dog wtf _

 

Phil started to type immediately, and if Dan said he didn't smile, he'd be lying.

* * *

 

The next morning, Dan had to peel himself off of the couch after falling asleep there, in the midst of watching a movie. He groaned, rubbing his eyes. His neck was all bent and he could  _ feel  _ the sofa creases on his cheek.

Dan looked to the side, peeking out the window. The sky was overcast, but it didn't look too bad. Would it be a nice day?

Dan flicked on his television, flipping through the channels until he found a weather one. It wasn't Phil's, and for some reason, that made him keep searching.

Eventually, Dan stumbled across it, Phil's smiling face appearing right before Dan's. He was in the middle of telling the weather, pointing to one of the maps behind him.

_ "-and it looks like there's a small chance of rain today, so keep your umbrellas home today!" _

Dan rushed through his shower after looking at the time, not wanting to be late for work. He barreled through his kitchen after running a straightener through his hair, shoving a handful of cereal in his mouth and pocketing his phone before running out his door. He'd have to run; he overslept.

When Dan opened the door to exit his apartment complex, however, it was raining. He groaned. The rain would give him hobbit hair and soak him through completely no doubt if he didn't get an umbrella. 

_ Well, fuck. _

By the time Dan ended up running back up to his flat, tracked down his umbrella, and practically fell down the steps, he was most certainly going to be late.

_ Small chance of rain my ass, Phil. _

Dan started fast walking, the rain pelting his umbrella. He was grumbling to himself, but then an idea popped into his head, and he couldn't help the smile that came over his face. He posed for a picture, sure to include the rain all around him, composed a short caption, and sent it out to the internet before putting his phone away and picking up his pace to get to work.

He might be late, but goddamnit it wouldn't be by much. 

 

**Dan (@danisnotonfire)** _ 4 seconds ago: _

_ does this look like a "small chance of rain" to you  _ **_@AmazingPhil_ ** _? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lkajfhlkjsl I promise the next update won't take me as long I just got really busy SORRY
> 
> also,,,,,,,*breathes in* _Dan_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm horrendously sick rn on top of having a shit ton of band rehearsals which is why this is late and I don't remember writing half of this but uhhhh enjoy my fever-dream writing

Dan eyes stared at the wall, unblinking. When was the last time he moved? Gotten up? Hell, even turned his head?

He didn't know.

Dan was, however, acutely aware of the single bead of sweat slowly tracing the line of his jaw. It was hot under his duvet, but even if he could muster up the effort to push the cover away, he would lose the wrapped-up feeling. It was the _only_ thing he had going for him in this moment, and he wasn't about to push it away.

_You say that as if you deserve it. Get rid of it—like everyone's gotten rid of you._

Dan didn't even have the energy to wince at the moment. He was motionless, just felt the stab of pain in his heart and did nothing to remedy it. He deserved to hurt, right?

* * *

His stomach was rumbling.

Night had fallen, and he still hadn't moved. He also hadn't eaten anything in...what was it? A day now? How long had this episode lasted already?

It was...Thursday. Probably. Maybe.

Dan scraped together a small part of his consciousness that wasn't mentally attacking himself at the moment and thought back, trying to determine how long he had laid in bed and let his thoughts consume him.

Monday was when Jaime had had the later shift...Tuesday was when Phil came in for his doughnut. It was also the day he had had that breakdown. Fucking wonderful. He didn't need another reason to hate himself, but hey, there were plenty, it would be a shame to let them go to waste.

_Goddamn failure._

Wednesday was when it had rained, and he had tweeted Phil _(god why had he done that he must have made a fool of himself)._ Jaime had also cornered him that afternoon when there was _finally_ a lull in customers, and after hugging him fiercely, demanded to know what the hell happened that made Dan storm away from her and Phil the day before. Dan couldn't remember what he had said, but it hadn't been the truth and was a load of bullshit. He was sure that Jaime only half-believed him.

_You can't even be honest to your best friend. Worthless._

No, that would make today Friday. He'd woken up close to midnight Wednesday night deep in depression, and he had been like this for an entire day already. Thursday had already past. Fuck. He hadn't even texted Jaime to tell her he wasn't going to be in.

_Look at you screwing up, once again._

Damnit, after all of this he just up and disappears on her, too. She's probably worried _sick-_

_She's probably done with your sorry ass now. Finally realized how much of an anchor you are, weighing her down like you do with everyone._

Shit, and Phil, he'd probably be in, looking for Dan since he hadn't turned up on Wednesday. What would Jaime say?

_He probably hates you now, too._

Dan's stomach growled unhappily at him, demanding some form of caloric intake. Dan just closed his eyes. Not like he deserved it, anyways.

* * *

 

Someone was knocking on his door, which didn't make sense. He hadn't ordered anything—like he had _any_ money—and it wasn't like he really had any family members or close friends besides Jaime to swing around and pop in for a 'hello'—they've all disowned him, anyways. Not to mention that they were at his _door,_ so they would have had to get past the main door. Probably just a neighbor's visitor with the wrong apartment number.

The knocking grew louder, more insistent and Dan really wished it would stop. It made the ache in his head worse.

Whoever was knocking shouted something, but Dan's bedroom where he was lying was the furthest room from the door, and it was like his ears were filled with cotton, so he couldn't hear whatever it was very well.

The knocking stopped.

_Good._

Dan let his eyes slip closed, sighing. He wanted to sleep again. His head wasn't as loud when he was sleeping, the numbness wasn't as consuming.

He heard what sounded like a key jimmy into the lock, and after a few heartbeats he heard the front door swing open. Under normal circumstances, he would already be screaming, panicked because _no_ _one_ had the key to his apartment, but Dan barely even twitched.

_Hopefully whoever's breaking in will murder me._

There were footsteps, then a voice, loud and pissed enough for Dan to hear.

"Daniel James Howell I swear to _god_ you can't just _disappear_ off of the face of the Earth like this! You know I was working double shifts this week! I barely had any time to sleep let alone check to see if you were still alive! And you can't even answer your _door_ when I'm _knocking?_ I know where you put your spare key idiot so you can't just ignore me like you did on Tuesday!"

There was what sounded like a bag being dropped onto a counter, and then Dan could hear her walking towards his bedroom door. He felt something sinking in his chest.

_No, please, walk out, I don't want you to see me like this. I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine._

"Dan I _swear_ if you're sleeping after I worked my ass off these past two days to cover your shift I'm going to scalp you. No text, no call, not even a single like on twitter and I'm calling _bullshit._ "

The door to his bedroom opened, and light from the hallway spilled into the dark room. Dan's eyes were already squeezed shut, but he only closed them tighter. He didn't move, _couldn't_ move, that is.

He heard Jaime draw in a sharp breath and he wished that he could crawl into a hole and _die._

"Dan…"  she breathed, her voice soft, like she was afraid that raising her voice above a whisper would bring the world crashing down on the both of them.

Dan didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. One look at him was most likely enough to see that he was falling apart at the seams.

Jaime crouched in front of Dan, but he still didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to face this.

She pushed back Dan's sweaty curls from his forehead. He hadn't even eaten, let alone had the motivation to straighten his hair. He couldn't find it in himself to be bothered, like he normally would have been, though.

"Dan, open your eyes please."

Dan did as she asked, even if he didn't want to, and found himself looking at a _very_ concerned Jaime.

"How long have you been like this, _amore_?"

The pet name barely even registered in his head.

When Dan didn't answer, Jaime frowned before standing.

"I'm going to be right back, okay Dan? I'm not leaving you, promise."

And with that, Jaime walked out of the room. Dan wasn't sure if he was more relieved or distraught at her presence leaving him.

He heard some vague sounds from various points in his apartment that he couldn't really place, but sooner rather than later Jaime was back. She put her hand through his hair again, and Dan couldn't help but think once again that it was probably a greasy, curly mess after not having showered in _days._ She peeled back the duvet that had been high enough on Dan's body to suffocate, and Dan made a tiny sound of protest at the sudden rush of cold air on his body.

"Dan, come on, you need to get up, okay? I made you a bath. Come on, sit up."

Jaime wrapped an arm under Dan's shoulders and gently pulled, using her strength to tug Dan up into a sitting position. He didn't really help, and for that he imagined that he would feel guilty if he had had the energy to do anything with himself at this point.

Jaime let Dan sit there for a moment before once again using the lean muscles in her body to coax Dan's much larger one to move. Soon enough, Dan was standing on wobbly legs, Jaime wrapped around him, supporting him, always supporting him.

She walked him to the bathroom, her arm around his waist, the other pressed to his abdomen like she was worried he would fold over. The entire time, she encouraged him with little, soft words, telling him that he was doing great, they were almost there, that he could do this.

If he thought he didn't deserve Jaime before, he was certain of it now.

When they got into the bathroom, she sat him on the seat of the toilet. The artificial light was too bright for his eyes, and he couldn't help squinting. Jaime noticed, flicking one of the switches off so only the gentle yellow light above the shower was on.

"Get in the tub and use the loo if you have to; I'll be right back, okay?"

She gave him a smile before turning around and closing the door behind her, supposedly to give Dan the privacy to undress. Dan's eyes drifted to the tub, which was filled with water, an unbelievably thick layer of bubbles spread overtop of it all, making it impossible to see the water below.

He wanted to cry.

He just couldn't.

Mustering all of the strength and the bitter remains of whatever he had left in him, he pulled the soiled shirt off of his body and dropped it onto the ground. He then hooked his thumbs under the waistband of both his shorts and his pants, but didn't pull them down, just breathing out, the air unsteadily making its way past his lips.

_What are you waiting for? Fucking do it. Look at everything Jaime's already done for you and she's barely been here. Pull yourself fucking together._

Dan slid them down his legs and off of his body, leaving him naked. He then dug his fingernails into his palms, and gritted his teeth.

He stood.

He almost slipped getting into the tub, and very nearly collapsed into the hot water, but he goddamn _did_ _it_.

Dan sighed and melted into the feeling of the sweet smelling water around him. Jaime must have put in some of that small bottle of expensive bubbles she had gotten him almost a year ago that he had been saving for a special occasion, the one that smelled like roses. Not that he was complaining, in fact he loved how the tiny bubbles covered every inch of the tub.

Like she had said, Jaime came back, a fresh pair of clothes in her hands. She sat them on the counter and then dropped down onto the floor, right next to the tub, but not before grabbing Dan's shampoo from where it hung on the shower rack.

"Dunk your head," she said, her voice still soft. Dan did, re-emerging from the hot water after a second.

Jaime squeezed a bunch into her hand, and popped the lid on the shampoo closed before running her fingers through his hair. She worked at the strands, lathering them up and massaging Dan's scalp gently with her fingernails.

Dan let it happen, closing his eyes and sighing, sinking deeper into the comfort of the water.

Jaime helped Dan rinse the suds from his hair, and then leaned over the edge, wrapping him in a hug, not caring that his skin was wet and soapy before leaving him to finish washing up and to let him soak in peace.

Dan wasn't sure how long he was in the bath, but he stayed in for as long as he could, waiting until the water turned cold and nearly all of the bubbles were gone before opening the drain to let the water out and standing.

He felt better than before, but his limbs still felt like they were weighted down with lead and there was still an ache in his chest.

Dan dressed himself in what Jaime had brought in for him and towel-dried his hair before emerging from the bathroom. He found Jaime in the kitchen, stirring a pot of something over the stove. When the smell hit him, his stomach _growled,_ and Jaime laughed, turning around and flashing him a smile.

"Find a seat, Dan, I'm making you my nonna's soup; it's almost done."

Dan collapsed on the couch, listening to the clock tick behind him. Jaime was humming as she cooked, and Dan found himself focusing on it, spacing out.

His thoughts swirled, and he felt himself falling, god, how could-

"Dan?"

Dan blinked. Jaime was standing above him, two bowls of soup in her hands. She was still smiling, but it was more reserved than before, a little sad. Dan hated knowing that he was the cause of that.

She handed him the soup, after apologizing in advance because she had to skip a few ingredients because Dan didn't have them around and it was "likely going to be rubbish". Bullshit. Jaime was a great cook.

At Jaime's insistence, Dan polished off a second bowl, and afterwards she curled around him and put on the telly, switching on some kind of movie that they had already seen a million times. They didn't say anything to each other, but they didn't really have too. They communicated with simple touches, with Jaime rubbing Dan's back and Dan wrapping one of his hands in her jumper.

And for once in a while, the thoughts died down until they were nothing but white noise in Dan's skull.

After a few hours, Jaime had grabbed Dan's phone for him, which had been sitting on the charger the entire time after Dan had plugged it in Wednesday night, before he had fallen asleep. He opened it. There were dozens of notifications. Some of them were from twitter, some from his various subscriptions on youtube, others spam emails, and a few from Jaime herself. What drew his attention, however, were the numerous texts from none other than _Phil._ With a stunned expression and a shaky hand, Dan opened them.

_God, Phil, I hope you don't hate me._

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

wow dan(isnotonfire) I'm busy at work one day

and you throw this shade at me?? wow I can't

believe I thought we were friends :P

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

[Multimedia message]

they lit up the manchester eye blue!!! :O

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

dannnnnnnnnnn where are youuuuuuuuuu

why aren't you at workkkkkkkkkkk

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

Jaime told me you were sick D:

that's probably why you weren't answering

these oops

anyways I'll stop bothering you

and I hope you get better!!!

[Multimedia message]

there's a pic of some soup on google now

you have no choice but to get better

oops

there goes my plan for not bothering you

that was like a million texts

I'll stop bothering you for real now, plz get

better Dan!!!!!

 

Dan couldn't help the little smile that formed. He felt a bit like an ass for leaving Phil high and dry like he had, but really, that man was ridiculous.

He started to type out a text, but only ended up deleting it. He did that a few times, before going for something as noncommittal yet thankful as he could get, trying, also, to sound normal and not depressed as hell.

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

wow phil I'm gone for a day or two and

you fall apart, huh?

but thank you for the soup lol

 

And, surprisingly, Phil started typing almost as soon as Dan sent the texts.

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

you're welcome dan! ^-^

 

Dan didn't really know how to respond to that, so he didn't, closing his phone and slipping it away. He settled back against Jaime.

"Thank you, Jaime," he whispered, "thank you so much. I don't know what I would do without you." There was a lump in his throat, and tears started to gather in his eyes, and just like that, Dan was crying, all of the emotions that he couldn't express over the past two days spilling out in a torent. He clutched onto Jaime, sobbing into her jumper. She held him tight and whispered soothing words in his ear, rubbing his arm and just letting him cry.

"Shhh, it's okay Dan, I know, I _know_. I'm here. You're okay. You're going to be fine."

And Dan cried, because he was. He was going to be _fine_.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL IM SORRY FOR THIS ANGST BUT LIKE THEY’RE A SHIT TON OF FLUFF IN THE BEGINNING DOES THAT BALANCE THINGS OUT???

Dan was curled up on one of the booth seats, his feet tucked underneath of him, body leaned towards the huge, warm-to-the-touch window separating him from outside. It wasn't because he was cold—it was  _ never  _ cold in the store—but because the sunlight spilling in just felt too good on his skin. 

He was on his lunch break and for once had decided to abstain from holing himself up in the break room. And okay,  _ maybe _ it had something to do with Jaime letting him pick the music that played from the shop's speakers. But really, he was enjoying it much more than he had thought, even to the point of  _ considering  _ making it a habit. But it was still a consideration, mind you.

Dan scrolled through twitter, retweeting or liking some of the posts that caught his eye. He didn't know what time it was, but he knew that he had plenty of it; his break had just started. 

"Wow, Dan, you look just like a cat basking  in the sun."

Dan jumped in surprise and snapped up his head from where it was staring down at his phone in his lap. Phil was sliding into the booth seat across from Dan, a smile on his face. He looked relaxed in a soft looking jumper and his glasses, hair done up in a quiff. 

"Oh, hi," Dan said, lamely. He mentally berated himself, but tried to not let his awkwardness take center stage by ignoring it,  _ praying _ Phil did the same. "It's been a while, Lester."

Phil snorted and took a sip of his coffee.

"A while? Dan it's been  _ ages. _ "

Dan laughed, and just like that, the air between them cleared and it was like they had restarted right where they had left off. 

"Last time I saw you it was Wednesday, Dan. You're not allowed to be sick anymore, by the way. Thursday I had absolutely no one to talk to while I had my coffee, and I didn't even bother coming in Friday because I figured you wouldn't be here since you were _so_ sick the day before. And then you're off on Saturday so I couldn't stop in then." Phil scoffed like the fact that he and Dan hadn't seen each other in a few days was a personal insult. And Dan _really_ shouldn't have found the notion as cute as he had, and _definitely_ not as endearing. 

"So what? You'll only come in if I'm here?" Dan asked, a warmth in his voice and a grin on his face.  _ Is Phil really that attached to me? Ha.  _ For some reason, the prospect that Phil didn't know what to do with himself when Dan wasn't around just made Dan's smile spread wider.

Phil blushed, pink flooding to his cheeks and protesting weakly. 

"No one else here makes my coffee the way that you do." He said, his face still pink and his bottom lip finding its way in between his teeth. Dan laughed.

"I'll make sure to rub the fact that I make the best coffee in her face later, then."

Phil hummed and brought the coffee cup in his hands up to his lips again for another sip. 

"How're you feeling, Dan?" Phil asked, pulled Dan from his thoughts.

"What?"

"How are you feeling? Like I know when I get sick I'm in this weird half-sick half-better stage for like a week afterwards; are you one of those people?" Phil said, his gaze returning to Dan's. 

Dan nearly snorted.

_ Half-sick, half-better, huh? I think you mean my permanent state, Phil,  _ Dan thought. He didn't dare think about saying it out loud though, no matter how often Dan seemed to just blurt things out. He had  _ some  _ self control.

Dan thought back to the past few days, to all of the hours melting together, a prisoner in his own mind. He saw himself laying in bed, not moving, just...just _thinking,_ for lack of a better word. And really, it wasn't thinking at all, but self torture. Dan remembered the numbness that filled every part of his body, and how it had taken Jaime Friday _and_ Saturday to finally pull Dan out of his own headspace. 

Even today, it had taken him more time than usual to get himself out of bed and start his day. The world wasn't quite as vibrant, the smile on his face not quite as sincere, his depression still louder than normal. So yes, maybe he  _ was  _ in that half-sick half-better stage.

"Yeah, I would say I'm still somewhat sick." Dan finally settled with. He felt like he was lying with how vague he was being right now. But it was better than spilling about his dead mental health, right?

Phil frowned and reached forward so his palm was flush against Dan's forehead. Dan sputtered and felt his cheeks grow hot at Phil's cool touch. He ignored the heat on his face and tried to pass it off as nonchalance, hoping to god that Phil didn't notice.

"Stop fidgeting I'm trying to see if you have a fever." 

"And what if I do? I'm at work so it's not like I can do anything about it." Dan said, determinedly not thinking very hard about how there would be no fever because Dan wasn't sick. Or at least, not like how Phil thought he was.

"Dan, if you have a fever you're going home even if I have to walk you back myself." Phil replied, seriously.

“Well what does my forehead say then, oh wise one?” Dan asked sarcastically.

Their eyes locked and something in Phil's glimmered. “Turbulence,” Phil said. “Conflict between what you want and what you need.”

“And what  _ do _ I need?”

The hand was withdrawn. Dan missed it immediately. 

“To be beaten at Mario Kart, of course.”

“Phil,” Dan said, laughing a little nervously. Once again, he tried to ignore what had just happened as best as possible, batting his eyelashes and trying to stay in step with whatever this was that they were doing. “At least buy me dinner first.”

"Okay." Phil said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Dan's eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open.  _ He can't be serious.  _ "We can swing by someplace before we get to my flat, or we can always order out."  _ Oh my god he  _ **_is_ ** _ serious. _

"Besides," Phil said, with a sly curl of his lips, sipping at the coffee in his hand, "dinner is the least I could do.”

“Wait until you see me order a whole lobster. Your wallet will be crying.”

Phil’s eyes glittered. “Can you even  _ get _ that delivered?”

“If you can’t, I’m quitting this job and setting up a lobster delivery service.”

“Nerd.”

“Dork.”

Dan wanted to know why talking with Phil was so easy, so  _ natural.  _ The only person that Dan had ever connected this fast with before was Jaime. And even then, their banter hadn't developed  _ this  _ quickly.  

"Invite me to the wedding," Jaime called from where she was wiping down a few tables with the ratty—but clean—washcloth she and Dan were always using. Neither Dan nor Phil had noticed her working a few feet away from them, and both of their eyes widened in surprise. Phil, however, took it in stride much better than Dan, the look on his face softening to one of amusement. 

_ Fuck, how didn't I notice her there? _

Phil laughed while Dan's face burned, surely as red as the lobsters they had just been fantasizing about. In the back of his mind, Dan worried Jaime would turn this into something like  _ that,  _ something to do with  _ sex, _ like last time. He prayed that she wouldn't. He wasn't interested in hiding his discomfort at the implication that  _ he _ would be involved in any kind of sexual situation, and he  _ certainly _ wasn't interested in trying to pretend that the thought didn't make him mentally revisit parts of his past that just  _ tear _ into his heart. 

Dan's head started to work in overdrive, all kinds of repressed memories surfacing. He pushed them all away. Happy. That's what he was feeling a moment ago. Time to get back to it.

"I'm sure Dan will let you be his bridesmaid."

"Hey!" Dan cried, snapping out of his dark thoughts. He reached over and wacked Phil's arm, who looked  _ entirely  _ too pleased with himself. "Who decided that I would be the wife in this relationship?  _ You _ would be the housewife for sure."

Phil gave him a look and Dan heard Jaime's snort all of the way from where she was standing clear as day. If anything, it only made Dan's blush deepen.

"The both of you are absolute bullies. I'm calling friend abuse for crushing my dreams." 

"Yeah, Howell, I'm _sure_ that's one of your dreams." Jaime muttered, finishing up with the table she was cleaning. Meanwhile, Dan wanted to find a hole and _die._

He didn't like Phil like  _ that.  _ Sure, he was handsome and good company and had really fucking pretty eyes, but that was  _ it.  _ Besides, Dan  _ didn't date. _

Phil thankfully didn't comment, though. He twisted around in his seat so he could see Jaime and held out his coffee cup, a pleading expression on his face.

"Jaime, could you refill my coffee please?"

Jaime sighed, but stepped forward and grabbed it, nodding. She turned to walk away, but Dan called out to her as well.

"Could you get me a drink too?" Dan asked. Then, as an afterthought, he added: "Please?"

"You work here, Howell, you know how to make yourself a drink," she said, cocking an eyebrow, a disapproving look on her face. Dan shrugged and gave her the best puppy-eyed look he could manage. 

"But I'm on break.  _ Please?  _ I won't ask for anything else the rest of the day."

"We both know that's a lie, but sure,  _ Danny-boy _ , I'll get you a drink."

"Danny-boy?" Phil asked, a smirk starting to form on his face. Dan groaned, putting his head in his hands and cursing Jaime.

"Don't you  _ dare  _ start calling me that too, Phil."

Dan brought his head up to find Phil looking at him with a downright  _ mischievous  _ glint in his eye.

"Don't you dare."

"Are you-"

_ "Don't." _

"-sure-"

_ "Phil!" _

"-Danny-boy?"

"Oh my  _ god. _ "

Phil started to laugh and Dan didn't miss how the tip of his tongue stuck out in between his teeth or how after a few moments of breathless giggling he brought his hand up to his mouth. Fuck. It was adorable. 

"I don't think this friendship is going to work with this blatant  _ betrayal,  _ Philip. I shouldn't have to put up with this. Especially not if I'm supposedly going to have to deal with  _ this _ while I destroy you in Mario Kart."

Phil had finally managed to pull himself under control, and he gave Dan a semi-sobered look, but Dan could still see the repressed jokes and sly remarks that Phil was just  _ dying  _ to make.

"Beat me, huh? I'll have you know that I'm the  _ best  _ out of all of my friends in Mario Kart."

Jaime returned, two drinks in her hands, sticking her tongue out at the both of them in the process of handing them over. Dan noticed that she had drawn little frowny faces on their cups and laughed.

"Well," Dan said, turning back to Phil who was clutching his warm coffee in between his palms, "you're definitely wrong on that one, mate." Dan took a sip— _ yes,  _ Jaime added in extra sugar. The heat of the liquid didn't bother Dan's mouth though; he was too used to chugging back a sometimes-still-burning drink on a regular basis in a desperate attempt to combat his lack of sleep in the mornings.

There was still a little voice at the back of Dan's skull that nervously fretted at how this was possibly a bad idea, but really, for  _ once _ his social anxiety wasn't overriding everything in his system, and Dan was positively  _ living  _ for it.

"You're going to have to wait until the weekend though, if that's alright. I've got to work a bunch of double shifts to make up for the pay I lost by missing work, so I'm not going to have time until Saturday. You free then?"

"Yeah, I'm free for the whole day after I do my weather segment."

Dan snorted.

"Sorry, I forgot you were famous, Phil, but I'm glad you're making time for us peasants."

 

~~~~~

 

"No! No no no!" Phil jumped up from the sofa, his fingers furiously working at the buttons on the controller in his hands. His body was tense and his mouth was open in a silent protest. Dan, meanwhile, was laughing on the sofa behind him, relaxed as hell, and enjoying how Phil was  _ desperately  _ trying to beat him in Mario Kart. 

He didn't stand a chance; Mario Kart was Dan's  _ game. _

Too bad it had taken Phil this long to figure out that Dan hadn't been lying when he said he would  _ crush  _ him.

Dan's grin grew to an impossible width when he got  _ another  _ power-up.

"Phil, oh Phil, I'd just stop trying if I were you."

Phil made a sound of protest, but didn't dare take his eyes off of the screen. 

Maybe Dan was enjoying this just a little  _ too much,  _ but really, Phil was  _ terrible.  _ It was unbelievably easy to have this much of a lead on him, and Dan was sure that if he had pulled out all of the stops, he would have stretched the gap between him and Phil even wider. Currently, Dan was in first, Phil in fifth. Part of the reason why Phil was so far back was because Dan kept messing with him, dropping back just to hit him with a shell or something similar, more times than not making Phil swerve, running into a wall. And while Dan would laugh and pull back in first, Phil would groan and shove Dan's shoulder, pouting.

Dan drifted around the corner, and used his power-up, increasing his speed and sending him flying over the finish line. 

_ "Yes!"  _ Dan shrieked, thrusting his controller into the air and nearly jumping from the couch. Phil cried out in protest, a hopeless "No!" pouring out from his lips as the game ended. He spun around, and Dan couldn't stop laughing, feeling it in his whole body.

"How are you so good?! That's  _ got  _ to be something like witchcraft."

"Maybe you're just that bad." Dan managed to squeak out in between bursts of his hyena laugh. Phil's face scrunched up and Dan tried to reign himself in, but really, Phil made it too easy.

"That was just a practice! I could totally beat you now that my fingers are warmed up." He grumbled, walking back to the couch where Dan was splayed out and lying down, his long legs reaching all the way to the other side. He started to move them, but before he really could Phil just picked up his ankles and lifted them up, sliding under them and sitting on the sofa. Phil let Dan's feet drop into his lap and looked up at the screen, already selecting another map. 

(Dan ignored the beginning of a blush on his cheeks because all Phil did was touch his _ankle_ he shouldn't be acting like _this_ )

"Are you looking to be beaten for a second time?"

"Ha. In your dreams, Howell.  _ I'm  _ going to be the one beating you today."

Dan scoffed, but the effect was ruined because he couldn't stop smiling. 

Phil turned his head and looked over at Dan, a wide grin on his face. 

"You have a dimple."

"What?"

"Your dimple. I've never seen it before. It's cute."

"Oh." Dan said, and there was  _ definitely  _ a blush on his cheeks now. Phil didn't comment on it, just letting his attention fall back to the TV. However, Phil let his hands drop so they were resting on top of Dan's crossed ankles, the touch seemingly to burn through Dan's jeans. 

Dan didn't say anything about it, or about how there was something new added into the atmosphere between them—something he couldn't quite place.

Phil finally selected a track and a new game started. Dan flicked his eyes to the screen as the game started to count down from three. When the horn went off, he sided right up to Phil's kart and drove him into a wall, a  _ brilliant  _ plan of attack forming in his head. Phil tossed Dan a dirty look but Dan just stuck his tongue out. Whatever had popped up between them in that little exchange a few moments ago was gone, for now. 

 

~~~~~

 

Phil tossed his controller onto the floor and crashed back into the back of the couch, an arm falling over his face. 

"I give up. You win. You bloody win, Dan, there's no way anyone can beat you."

They had been playing Mario Kart for over two hours now, and Phil hadn't come close to winning  _ once.  _ In fact, the closest he had gotten was a whopping third. And in hindsight, with Dan harassing him as he was, getting third was a decent enough achievement. 

"I'm glad it only took you a million games of me handing you your own arse for you to figure it out, Phil."

"Oh shut it," Phil said, pulling his arm down to smack Dan's leg. He was smiling though, so Dan knew that he wasn't as annoyed as he let on. Dan let his controller fall to the floor and shifted down further into the sofa, wiggling his toes on Phil's lap. Phil pretended to gag.

"I hate to break up our little Mario Kart marathon, but you promised me dinner and I think my stomach is literally going to digest itself."

"That sounds painful." Phil said. His hands were on Dan's ankles again, but this time Phil's thumb was unconsciously tracing little patterns on the skin that was exposed there.

"Mhm."

"Where should we order out from then? There's a Indian place not too far away, or maybe the Chinese one a few blocks away? Something else?"

"Phil," Dan whined, "I thought I was promised lobster remember?" Dan said, trying to bring back the playful atmosphere that it was a few moments ago. Now...now there was something  _ more.  _

"Dan, there's a reason why I have two jobs. Maybe in like, ten years I can get you those lobsters."

Dan sighed as if in disappointment, and nodded.    
"How about some Indian then, if we  _ must. _ "

Phil rolled his eyes and once again curled his fingers around Dan's ankles, lifting them up just like before and sliding out from under Dan's legs, getting up.

"I'll call us in something, wait here."

After the food was ordered and Phil had returned, he had just shifted Dan's body once again so he could sit before letting Dan's feet fall onto the tops of his thighs. Dan was too nervous to move them. 

Instead of playing more Mario Kart, however, they decided to turn on a movie while they were waiting for their food. 

When it arrived, Phil hopped up before Dan could and paid, bringing the bags back and putting them on the table. Dan sat up eagerly, his stomach  _ growling  _ at the smells wafting from what Phil was spreading out in front of them. They dug in, sitting close enough for their thighs to brush together, the movie playing in the background. Dan didn't really care if he was missing parts though; it was an old Marvel film they had both seen countless times before. 

Dan let out a little noise of content when he finished.

"You were right Phil, that was  _ delicious. _ I want to marry the chef so they could cook like that for me every day."

Phil looked at him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were  _ intense.  _ It pinned Dan down and dissected him, took him apart and looked at all of his pieces. 

And Dan was helpless to fight it. He couldn't look away if he tried.

"Yeah? Would you propose to him with a bagel?" He asked, the question nothing but a breath.

There it was again. That…that  _ feeling  _ between them. Dan recognized it now, for certain. His heart picked up a little, and he could feel the beginnings of sweat prickling on the back of his neck. 

He remembered why he didn't date, why he didn't do anything other than platonic. He remembered the tears and the screaming and the  _ pain,  _ the damage he was still dealing with. He  _ remembered,  _ god did he remember, but he still couldn't stop the  _ Phil Phil Phil  _ in his head. 

Dan licked his lips. He needed to get them away from this territory. 

He needed to. 

But.

Fuck. 

He didn't  _ want to. _

"Maybe. Would that bother you?"

Dan's heart was in his stomach, yet it was still beating like crazy, sending his senses into overdrive. He didn't know what the hell he was doing, but he also didn't want to stop. And god, he couldn't stop looking into Phil's  _ blue  _ eyes,  _ fuck. _

Phil just stared, not saying a word. Dan was about to pull away, to give up whatever he seemed to be chasing. But Phil didn't give him the chance. 

Something shifted in Phil's eyes, some kind of resolve forming right before Dan's gaze. Phil leaned forward and curled a hand around Dan's jaw.

"You tell me," he whispered and pressed forward. Dan met him halfway and he couldn't help how his eyelids fluttered closed when their mouths met. It was soft, questioning, with a clear open exit for Dan to run to if he wanted, but there was nothing unsure in how Phil kissed him; there was no doubt in the emotions Phil was pouring over Dan.

Dan would be lying if he said that the kiss shut up every voice in his head. If he claimed that this mind wasn't a shitshow, in a civil war with itself. If there wasn't a part of him that wanted to run.

But Dan was  _ tired  _ of running. He was exhausted and he hadn't known it, and yes, part of him was screaming that this was a  _ bad idea,  _ but  _ fuck it  _ he didn't  _ care. _

He wanted to be happy.

Phil pulled away a little, letting their mouths disentangle, but Dan just fisted a handful of Phil's shirt and brought him crashing back.

Phil groaned and nipped at Dan's bottom lip, flicking over it with his tongue. He was leaning heavily into Dan, the one hand that wasn't cupping Dan's face gently was locked beside Dan's body, holding Phil up. Dan, for his part, was angled back, and as their lips met over and over and  _ over  _ again it felt like Dan was just falling farther and farther back. 

Dan brought his other hand to the back of Phil's head, and using the one buried in his shirt as well, Dan let his body fall, pulling Phil down with him. It wasn't as coordinated as he had imagined in his head, however, and their mouths broke apart. Dan was lying on his back, his legs angled awkwardly to the side of Phil's body, which was still somewhat posed overtop of Dan's. Phil laughed a little, but Dan didn't have the time to be embarrassed because Phil reached down and parted Dan's legs so they were on either side of Phil's body. Phil let his body blanket Dan's, bringing their faces impossibly close to each other.

"Is this okay?" Phil asked, his eyes so close, his mouth  _ just  _ out of reach.

Dan couldn't help but nod and reach out, pulling Phil in the rest of the way so they were kissing again. Phil let out a little sound that sounded a bit like a chuckle before turning his head and letting their mouths slot together better than before.

Dan had always liked kissing, but  _ god,  _ kissing Phil was a dream come  _ true.  _

He didn't know how long they made out on Phil's scratchy couch, but Dan enjoyed every moment of it. He loved how Phil's fingers ran through his hair and curled around his waist, how Dan's own palm fit so well between Phil's shoulder blades, and how Phil's soft fringe brushed up against Dan's forehead. 

Of course, things came to a crashing end. 

Phil was kissing the life out of Dan, pressing him into the sofa with the weight of his own body, when he slipped a hand under Dan's shirt, his fingers  _ burning  _ into Dan's skin.

And then reality came crashing down onto Dan.

Dan gasped and both of his hands flew to Phil's chest, pushing him away. Dan rolled out from under Phil and consequently onto the floor. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck  _ fuck. _

He knew this was a bad idea, he  _ knew it. _

All of the reasons why a relationship between them wouldn't work  _ burst  _ through his head like grenades. And really, it was just the same reason, repeated over and over in a mantra. 

_ You're ace you're ace you're ace you're- _

Dan sprang up from the floor and Phil was up from the couch in an instant, eyes wide and filled with fear and worry and concern.

"Oh my god Dan I'm so sorry! Fuck, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or-"

It was cowardly, but Dan couldn't stand there. A panic attack more fierce than anything he had faced in a while was building up in him and he didn't want to be here when it hit. Fuck.  _ fuck.  _ He turned, nearly dashing for the door, stomping into his shoes at a lightning and inhuman speed. Phil had caught up with him, however, and before Dan could grasp the door handle, his hand grabbed Dan's sleeve.

"Dan please don't go oh my god I swear I didnt-"

"It's not going to work between us, Phil, I'm sorry," Dan said, not missing how breathless he sounded, how kissed-out Phil looked, "but it just won't okay? I can't love you like you need me to."

"Dan? Woah, slow  _ down,  _ I don't-"

"I'm can't, okay? Now please let  _ go  _ of me."

"But I-"

Dan didn't seem capable of letting Phil finish a single sentence because he was already opening his mouth to retally. But then again Dan didn't really care if he was being rude at the moment because his heart was about to beat out of his chest and the world was spinning and all of the bad thoughts were rushing around his head in a whirlwind, unable to be stopped. Dan was panicking.

"I'm asexual! I just can't, Phil!" he blurted, and just as the words passed from his mouth his heart  _ stopped,  _ as well as the rest of the world. Everything stopped. Phil's eyes went wide, and that was  _ it _ , Dan was ripping his arm out of Phil's grip and  _ ripping  _ the door open,  _ sprinting  _ down the hallway and taking the stairs down from Phil's flat so fast he was sure he was going to trip and break his neck. 

He could hear Phil running after him, trying to keep up, shouting for him to  _ "Wait! Please!" _ but Dan wasn't listening. Dan wasn't  _ listening. _

Dan burst out of Phil's apartment complex and ran faster than he had ever before. His feet felt like they were barely skimming the ground and it was like he was being chased by Death itself, but he only ran faster, pushed himself harder. And he was crying, tears blurring his vision until he could barely see. He hiccuped on a sob, but Dan wasn't stopping to catch his breath. 

He had to run.

From Phil. 

From the situation.

From the kisses, the  _ feeling,  _ the giggles and smiles and joy.

From his inability to  _ shut his mouth. _

From himself. 

He ran. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highkey just gave Dan the coming out I wish I had and I have no regrets about it.

Dan banged his fist on Jaime's apartment door, ignoring the want to shout for her to open it as well. He was already being loud enough to surely disturb her neighbors, and he didn't need to try any harder.

He heard faint shuffling form beyond the door—probably Jaime finding her way to the front door of her apartment. Dan's stomach turned and he clenched his jaw and pushed down the different sides warring inside of him right now. His problem was that he didn't want to be around her or anyone else right now in  _ any _ capacity, if he was being honest with himself, but he needed to  _ change  _ himself, damnit, and Jaime had the means to do it.

The door opened to reveal a disgruntled Jaime with an impressive scowl on her face. It melted into more of a frown at the sight of Dan, however, and she pulled him into her apartment without a word. Dan ignored the burn of her hand against his skin. This was Jaime, his best friend. He should be fine. 

"Dan, as much as I love you, why are you turning up at my doorstep at nearly midnight, not to mention looking like you were hit by a truck. What in  _ god's name  _ happened?" She didn't seem mad, but to be fair she didn't seem to be settled on a single emotion at the moment, so any anger was probably masked. Confusion, worry, concern...it was all weighing down the expression on her face at the corners until it was it's very own cocktail of feeling that Dan was hopeless to interpret.

_ What  _ **_had_ ** _ happened? _

Dan thought about the kissing, the panic attack that had taken him with a goddamn vengeance in the middle of some park he had stumbled into. The tears, the sobs from years of refusing to break apart choking his throat and making it hard to breathe. The self hatred he learned first hand from society and those closest to him. The sitting there, on that park bench for...god if it was close to midnight then he'd have been there for several hours, head in his hands, lost in the past and his own head. 

He didn't speak his thoughts, though. However, he still forced his mouth open and pushed the words he wanted out even if they tasted like bile on his tongue. 

"Do you still have that hair dye?"

_ "What?  _ Dan, you were banging on my door like a maniac because you wanted a makeover? What the  _ fuck? _ " she said, pulling some of her hair out of her face. 

"Jaime, please, I know it's fucking insane but I need your help."

_ "Dan." _

"Jaime, listen, please, I-"

"No, no  _ you  _ listen, Dan. You look like you're either about to break down in sobs on my floor or punch a wall, possibly both. You're shaking and don't think that by keeping your hands pushed in your pockets I can't see that they're trembling. Dan, you're fucking panicking in front of me and you have tear tracks down your whole face.  _ You,  _ are going to tell me what the goddamn hell happened." She looked him right in the eye,  _ commanding  _ Dan's compliance. 

"Jaime, I-" his voice broke and he couldn't stop his eyes from falling to the floor, trying to swallow the lump in his throat before he tried to speak again. "Jaime I  _ need  _ you to help me,  _ please.  _ I-I need to change myself, okay? I need to erase Dan Howell right now." 

Dan couldn't tear his gaze away from the floorboards under his feet, but the silence that sprouted between them did nothing but force his soul to break apart even more. 

Fuck.

He should have listened to himself earlier and just went home, he should  _ have— _

"Okay."

Dan snapped his head up, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Jaime had let her crossed arms drop, and she seemed much more awake than she had a moment ago. She closed the distance separating them and wrapped her arms around Dan, standing on her tiptoes so her chin could reach Dan's shoulder. Taken back, it took Dan a moment to react, but when he did he couldn't help but tuck his face into the crook of Jaime's shoulder and exhale deeply. 

"I'll help you with anything, Dan. And I won't push you, but you know I'm here for you, okay?" Dan nodded. He didn't deserve someone as golden hearted as Jaime.

They stayed like that for several minutes. Dan just soaked up as much comfort as he could from their embrace and tried to ignore the concerned and worried vibes Jaime was giving him. When he pulled away, she kept trying to catch his eye, but he kept his gaze down. 

"I have that blue from before, and I think I might have some red left over from when we redyed mine; which color would you like?" she asked, her voice still soft.

"Can you surprise me?" Code for  _ please make the decision I don't want to think. _

She smiled, and even if it looked strained Dan knew it was genuine. 

"Sure. Grab a seat at the table and take off your jacket so none of the dye gets on it, I'll be right back."

Dan tossed his jacket onto the sofa and slipped his shoes off. He sat at one of the few chairs she had around her kitchen table and ran a hand through his hair. His breath was shaky when he let it out.

He didn't want to dye his hair. In fact, when he said he wanted to change himself to Jaime a few minutes ago, he hadn't meant anything physical for once. He wanted to change something that he couldn't, but then again a lot of people wanted to rewrite something out of their control, so it wasn't like he was special. 

Dan wanted to reach inside his head and  _ fix  _ himself. He wanted to bundle up whatever in his person that made him  _ ace  _ and fucking burn it for all he cared. He wanted to be  _ normal,  _ goddamnit. He wanted nothing more than to force himself to want to fuck. God, things would be so easier if he could look at someone attractive and have that craving for sex. Then maybe he would have been like any other normal person and  _ not  _ freak the  _ fuck  _ out when Phil had slipped his hand under Dan's shirt, but only have kissed him harder. 

But  _ fuck,  _ how many times had he forced himself into sex? How many goddamn times and not  _ one  _ had been good. They've only fucking  _ hurt,  _ and not physically.

He had learned through the years that he couldn't change that part of himself that was broken. And now with how royally he had  _ fucked up _ , he wanted nothing more than to, so he settled for the next best thing, which was altering his physical appearance. 

Dan pulled his head up and tried to rearrange his face so it didn't look so much like everything was falling apart when he heard Jaime's feet coming back down the hall. She was frowning when she walked into the kitchen and tossed the dye and the other supplies needed onto the table.

"I forgot we used the rest of my hair bleach when you helped me redo my roots and where I normally buy it is bound to be closed by now."

Dan grit his teeth. He wanted  _ one  _ fucking thing, but apparently that was too much to ask from the universe.

"Can I just run over to the nearest convenience store and find something that would work?" 

"No, Dan, I won't put shitty bleach in your hair."

Dan groaned and rubbed his face. 

"Please, Jaime?"

Jaime sighed, but she grabbed the box dye on the table and popped open the lid. 

"I can put this in your hair still, but it's just going to sort-of tint your hair and I can't guarantee how much it will take, but it's the best I can do for you at the moment."

Dan breathed out in relief and let some of the tension in his body drain out. "Thank you, Jaime, god thank you so much."

Jaime hummed in response and started to prepare the dye. She pulled some gloves onto her hands and ran a hand through Dan's hair.

"Thank god you straighten your hair, or this would have been much more difficult." She muttered to herself and draped a towel around Dan's shoulders to protect his clothing from any stray dye. She sectioned a part of Dan's hair and clipped it back. Jaime took the brush and brought it to Dan's hair, but didn't let it touch.

"Dan, are you sure about this?"

He opened his mouth to say yes, but paused. He still didn't want to do this, yet at the same time if he wanted to so  _ badly _ . He couldn't control his sexuality, but he could control the color of his hair. And fuck, he needed something to be different. He needed to feel like there was some control he had in his life. 

"Yes," Dan breathed, unclenching his hands from where they were gripping furiously to the hem of his jumper.

Dan felt it as Jaime picked the sectioned part of his hair and lathered the dye into it. Jaime worked methodically and as good as any professional from how much practice she's had of doing it. As Jaime worked, Dan felt his body relaxing to the feeling of her deft fingers working at his scalp, but his mind starting to unravel even further than it had been. 

He felt guilty as hell, in short. He had showed up to Jaime's door at an unreasonable time and practically forced her to agree to working on his hair at said unreasonable time, ignoring all of her attempts to try and help him because she could see that something was  _ very  _ wrong with Dan, and flat out refusing to give her even a hint as to why Dan was falling apart in her flat.

When he and Jaime had first started to become friends, they learned a lot about how much they had in common. However, when they found out that the other had had similar experiences with shitty pasts and trying to stay afloat  with just as shitty coping mechanisms, they had made a promise to each other. They'd come to one another when they were hurting, and they wouldn't try and shoulder all of the pain on their own. No secrets, just love and support.

And Dan had been lying since day one.

Two years later, here he was, still refusing to tell the truth and yet still expecting something from Jaime, and that wasn't by any means fair to her. 

Dan opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't quite push the words out. Fuck, could he do this? How would she react? A compilation of every single time Dan has ever come out flashed through his psyche in an instant. He saw his girlfriend and her disappointment and disgust. He saw his father's anger, his mother's horror. He saw Phil's surprised and shaken look. What would Jaime look like? Would she throw him out like his parents? Throw every flaw of his being into his face and cut him out of his life in an instant like Dan's ex? Something else?

He didn't know, and it fucking terrified him. 

"Jaime?" He finally managed. He didn't miss how his voice shook.

Her hands didn't stop moving, but he could tell her attention had shifted completely onto him and the words he was forcing out.

"Yeah?"

Dan dug his fingernails into the arms of the chair he was sitting in to try and keep them from shaking so much. He wasn't sure if it worked.

_ Fuck, can I actually do this? _

He didn't know, really, had no fucking  _ clue.  _

Jaime was the most important person in his life and he didn't want to lose her just because of his sexuality like he had everyone else. 

Jaime let her arm brush Dan's shoulder. It was an insignificant touch at face value, but small points of contact were something that she had been doing since the beginning. It was her way of reassuring Dan and saying all of the words that were floating between them.

Suddenly, Dan felt like he was going to cry and the lump in his throat was back. He still didn't know how Jaime would react, but fuck Jaime deserved to know. He'd push the words out for her if he couldn't do it for himself. 

"I…" Dan licked his lips, "could I maybe...talk to you?"

"You can always talk to me  _ amore. _ "

"I've been...lying. Well, I don't know if it's exactly lying, but I certainly haven't been telling the truth." Dan looked at his hands. "I've been keeping a secret from you." His voice was quiet and at this point Jaime's hands had stilled in his hair. But he pushed on, he had to. "I didn't really want to, I was just scared. Really bloody  _ terrified  _ of how you would react because...well...I haven't exactly had a single good reaction to telling anyone." Dan chuckled a little, the sound one of almost disbelief even to his own ears. "It's also kind of why I'm here right now."

Jaime pulled the gloves off of her hands, but Dan once again tried to not let himself get distracted. He needed to finish this.

"I'm asexual. I don't experience sexual attraction in  _ any  _ form, and to be frank the mere idea of me doing anything sexual is almost repulsive. But I'm still me!" Dan quickly added, the pace of his words beginning to speed up and panic once again forming in his gut. "I'm still the same Dan you know and love and I'm no different from ten minutes ago before you knew. You just...know a little bit more about me," Dan's voice cracked, "and that's a good thing, right?" he finished with a whisper.

Jaime didn't move and Dan tried to control his breathing. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"Say something,  _ please. _ "

Jaime sank down to Dan's level and nearly tackled him down from the chair. 

"I'm so  _ sorry. _ Dan, god, I'm so fucking sorry that you had to hide from me for so long. And damnit you have no idea how right you are. Of course you're no different than how you were five minutes ago. You're still my Dan. My clumsy, sarcastic, emo who barges into my flat at ridiculous times in the morning and eats all of my snacks on the weekends and makes the best damn coffee." Jaime's hands dug into the fabric of Dan's jumper. "And I wouldn't have you any other way."

Dan felt tears start to gather at the corners of his eyes as he fisted handfuls of Jaime's sleep shirt. 

"You're not mad? O-or disgusted? Or-"

"No,  _ god  _ no, Dan, I could never be. How did you get that idea?"

With a choked sob and a sudden burst of tears, everything came spilling out, all the way from the beginning. His unbelievably difficult self struggle with his sexuality upon his first discovery of it, his parents, his old girlfriend,  _ Phil,  _ all of the internal conflict and built up self-hate just tumbled out in between hiccuping breaths and the never-ending tears drenching Jaime's shirt. She held him and stroked his back and cried with him until Dan ran out of tears. 

Afterwards, she helped him finish his hair, and they curled up together on the couch just like always. And for the first time since he and Phil kissed, Dan felt at peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I solved some angst! There was some fluff! Look at that!! We're making progress!!!!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI YALL CATCH ME CRYING OVER THIS CHAPTER

When Dan finally closed the door on his flat, it was nearing five in the morning. Jaime had tried to convince him to stay over because of Dan's high strung emotions as well as the fact that it was a ridiculous time in the morning and Dan hadn't had any sleep, but he had refused. After a teary "bye" and another bear hug, Dan had found himself walking down the pavement in the vague direction of his flat, head down, mind wandering. 

By the time that his feet had brought him to the door of his apartment complex, he felt squeezed, as if he was being pushed into a mold that he couldn't fill. 

Dan kicked off his shoes and left them haphazardly by the door as well as missing the hook on the wall for his jacket, but not even bothering to pick it up from the floor. He would probably end up tripping over his mess later and regret not fixing it, but he couldn't give a rat's ass at the moment. 

He stripped himself of his clothes once he got to his bedroom and dragged a pair of pajama bottoms over his legs and a loose shirt with a wide cut that sometimes slipped over his collarbones, but was comfortable. 

Dan resisted the urge to flop into his bed right then and there—he was  _ exhausted _ —and kicked his dirty clothes out of the way as he walked back out of his bedroom. Dan might want to just curl up in a ball at cease to exist at the moment, but he would hate himself a lot more later if he didn't even try and perform  _ some  _ kind of personal hygiene. And brushing his teeth would go a long ways in the direction of un-fucking tomorrow morning. Or later this morning, actually.

He flicked on the light and just blinked a few times to adjust to the bright-as-hell fluorescent bulb he had for some godforsaken reason. When he looked in the mirror, however, he nearly dropped the toothbrush in his hand and couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips. He was staring at his reflection, mouth open, eyes wide, and he could see the shock on his face, but he also wasn't paying much attention to it because his  _ hair, jesus christ. _

It wasn't like Jaime's hair, which was practically neon because her hair had been bleached while Dan's hadn't, but it didn't seem to matter as much as Jaime had thought, because it still looked  _ good _ . His hair was curly due to not being given a chance to straighten it after Jaime had washed the dye out, but his normally brown curls were replaced by midnight-ish blue ones. Dan ran a hand through it, still in a bit of disbelief. When Jaime had finished with his hair, he hadn't looked in a mirror or asked for a picture. Instead, they had just rubbed a towel on Dan's hair to keep it from dripping and fell on the couch, where they talked and cried and laughed for a little bit. Dan stared at his reflection for a few moments, feeling time tick by with the beat of his heart. 

Then, he laughed, the sound bubbling up from his throat as he tugged lightly at his curls. His  _ blue  _ curls. He was exhausted both physically and emotionally, but he was smiling ridiculously at his reflection and laughing; it didn't make too much sense to him.

"Maybe I'm finally losing it," he muttered, looking for the toothpaste in the cabinet that hung above his sink. 

A few minutes later after removing the gross feeling of his mouth and playing with his hair a little more, Dan crawled into bed, the need to  _ rest  _ sinking deep into his bones. He rolled over and grabbed his phone on the nightstand where he had left it when he was getting dressed. Dan plugged it in, and when the screen lit up in its normal fashion whenever it was charging he couldn't help but see the several text notifications he had.

Frowning, Dan unlocked the phone and clicked on his messenger app, which promptly showed texts from Jaime and...Phil. 

Biting his lip, Dan clicked on Jaime's name. Her text was short and sweet and completely to the point, but Dan still couldn't help the warm feeling that blossomed from his chest. He typed out a reply and sent it.

 

**> >From: my maraschino cherry**

_ i took u off the schedule for work later today _

_ so dont worry abt coming to work kay? and  _

_ take some time out for yourself alright? u  _

_ deserve a break _

 

**> >To: my maraschino cherry**

_ tysm jaime i'll make it up to u, promise _

_ <333 _

 

Her little three bubbles popped up immediately, and he nearly started crying at her reply, that's how fragile he was at the moment. 

 

**> >From: my maraschino cherry**

_ <333 _

 

Really. A typed out heart had no reason to pull at his heart so much. It wasn't fair.

Dan backed out of he and Jaime's text conversation, and he was confronted with Phil's waiting texts, blinking up at him seemingly angrily. His thumb hovered over the screen and Dan's heart was pounding in his ears. He tried to imagine what Phil had texted him, and how much he had apparently felt so strongly about it, for there were  _ eleven texts  _ from the one and only Phil Lester. 

_ He's probably telling you that he doesn't want anything thing like that from you anymore, and how you're a fucking  _ **_freak_ ** _ , idiot. What else would he or anyone else have to say? _

Dan swallowed thickly and clicked the screen off, dropping the phone on his nightstand like it had burned him. He could deal with it tomorrow.

* * *

 

Dan slept fitfully, tossing and turning and barely being able to stay unconscious for an hour. His dreams weren't helping matters, either. He kept having nightmares over his ex-girlfriend, snarling at him in disgust after he had tried to explain it. He kept seeing that afternoon, Dan sitting on her bed, she standing over him, her mouth moving, her  _ words  _ booming from the walls, the ceiling, the floor, rattling inside Dan's eardrums and taking a sledgehammer to his heart. Except, her voice and face were Phil's. And then before Dan knew it it was Phil, telling him everything he had been trying to convince himself wasn't true since...well, since everyone he knew told him it was.

_ Freak. _

_ Unnatural. _

_ Confused. _

After a handful of hours of the back and forth that he just couldn't stand anymore, Dan crawled out of bed at around noon, only a few hours of collective sleep in his system. He stumbled into his kitchen, his duvet bunched around his body. Dan grabbed the box of cereal he had on his counter and just shuffled into his tiny lounge, dropping himself onto the sofa immediately and sighing as he settled into his sofa crease. Dan flicked on Netflix and opened the box while he was waiting. He stuffed a fist-ful of dry cereal into his mouth as he flicked through his options.  _ Thank god for reality TV,  _ Dan thought as he selected some new Netflix original,  _ and thank god for people with just as shitty lives as mine having a TV crew to record it. _

Several hours and numerous episodes of his show later, there was a knock on his door. 

Dan was curled up in a ball on his couch, his monochrome duvet still wrapped tight around his body like a cocoon. The box of Crunchy Nut had fallen to the floor close to an hour ago, and Dan didn't care. He hadn't even really eaten much of it anyways. 

After a few seconds, the knock sounded again, just as insistent and  _ obnoxiously _ loud as before.  _ Damn, don't they know that some people are trying to mope, _ Dan humorlessly thought, craning his neck to look at his front door. 

It returned, but this time it sounded as if whoever it was was using their fist to pound at the door. Dan groaned and cursed the inevitable determined-as-hell salesman at his door. He dragged himself to his feet and thought about shedding his duvet to keep the remaining shred of his dignity intact, but with the pounding having  _ yet to stop,  _ he threw the thought out the goddamn window. What the fuck did he have to lose?

The noise continued, refusing to let up even for a moment, and Dan once again wished that whoever was behind the door would go jump off a damn cliff.

"Alright, alright, I'm  _ coming! _ " Dan shouted, wrapping his fingers around the doorknob after sliding back the lock and yanking the door open. His mouth was already open to lay into whoever it was, but he stopped dead in his tracks. 

Phil was standing there, incredibly close to the doorframe, his hand still raised to continue trying to beat Dan's door in. His breathing was slightly irregular and his eyes were wide, hair in a complete disarray. Phil was in his Tesco employee uniform, but it was rumped as hell as if he was coming straight from one of his shifts. 

"Dan," Phil breathed. He sounded so  _ so  _ relieved, but the relief was dripping with a thousand other emotions tangled together, and there was no way that Dan could try and pull them all apart. 

Phil swallowed, and flicked his eyes over every inch of Dan—his eyes, his hair, his lips, his shoulders, his partially hidden legs, his feet,  _ everywhere.  _ Reflexively, Dan knew that his skin should be crawling, but the feeling never came, and Dan realized a second later that it was because Phil's gaze wasn't  _ looking  _ for anything like  _ that _ . It wasn't that kind of hungry. It drank in the sight of Dan like he was never going to be able to again. And Dan didn't know how it made him feel.

"I need to talk to you." Phil said, finally snapping out of it and looking Dan in the eyes. He sounded desperate, and his blue blue eyes were pleading. 

Dan's heart was pounding and he wanted to say no just as much as he wanted to say yes. He didn't trust his mouth, and for once he managed to keep it clamped shut. Last time he and Phil had been together and how he had just _blurted it out_ was enough proof. So Dan just stepped back and let his front door swing open a fraction of a degree more than it had been a few seconds ago. Magically, a massive amount of tension melted off of Phil's shoulders and he stepped through the opening and into Dan's flat. 

He closed the door, and at this point, Dan's anxiety was in full swing, starting to wreak havoc in his head. Dan just clutched his duvet tighter in his hands and let his shaky legs take him back into the lounge. He sat on the couch, and Phil sat himself down too, on the opposite side. Dan stared at the stitching in the fabric on his cushions, and he could feel Phil's gaze on him. They were both silent.

"If you're going to yell at me, just do it, please," Dan whispered. He didn't lift his eyes.

"Yell at you?  _ Why  _ would I  _ ever _ ?" Phil said immediately. He sounded appalled.

"Running out, kissing you, being, well,  _ me, _ " Dan said, his right hand emerging from his duvet to gesture to himself, "among others. I've certainly given you enough reasons, I'm sure."

Phil didn't say anything, and Dan just sank lower and lower in on himself. 

"Dan I...where did you...why would you think I would yell at you?"

Dan shrugged.

"That's what everyone does." The  _ when I tell them I'm asexual  _ was left unsaid, but Dan had the feeling that Phil understood.

Dan was expecting virtually anything at that moment, but in normal Phil fashion, Phil surprised him.

"Dan, did you see my texts earlier?"

"No…?" Dan said, his confusion making him look up. Why the hell did a few texts matter right now? Phil didn't even meet his gaze, he was standing so fast, practically jumping off the couch and looking around.

"Where's your phone?"

"In my bedroom but why do you—Phil!"

Phil took off right down the hallway, looking left and right for Dan's bedroom and finding it, disappearing for a few seconds before re-emerging and marching straight to where Dan was still sitting. Phil shoved the phone towards Dan after he sat back down.

"Unlock it, please."

"Phil, I-"

"Dan,  _ please. _ "

Helpless to the desperation and unfacilitated emotion in Phil's voice, Dan robotically tapped in the five-digit passcode he had on his phone. It unlocked and Phil grabbed the phone back, tapping a few times in quick succession. 

"Phil, what-"

Phil just pushed the phone right back into Dan's hands. On the screen, Phil's texts were pulled up. Once again, Dan tried to speak, but Phil just cut him off.

"Dan, read them, please for the love of god read the fucking texts."   
Eyes wide, Dan looked down at his phone. 

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ Dan please come back _

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ Dan? Where are you? Are you safe? Please  _

_ tell me you're alright. _

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ Dan please I'm worried sick _

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ It's really late right now, 3am actually, and  _

_ you left hours ago but damnit Dan I haven't _

_ been able to focus on anything since you  _

_ left. I cant even sleep. _

_ Im worried abt you and want nothing more  _

_ to talk to you right now but you arent answering _

_ your texts and I cant even really blame you _

_ you looked so scared when you blurted out _

_ that you were asexual I wanted to cry FOR  _

_ you  _

_ And you being asexual is okay! Believe me, I  _

_ promise I have no prob with it, I would be a shitty _

_ person if I did, and all of the people out there that _

_ DO have a prob with it are shitty _

_ But Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan, I really wish you hadn't _

_ run out on me, you know? oh, well I guess you  _

_ dont know, thats why you ran out huh...well  _

_ whenever you read this, you'll know _

_ There is not one part of I, Philip Michael Lester,  _

_ that gives a shit if you are asexual. You are you _

_ and to be frank I wouldnt have you any other way _

_ than how I know you. Youre asexual. Okay. The  _

_ only thing that has changed is my level of  _

_ understanding of you bc now I just idk know more  _

_ abt you _

_ Youre funny and sarcastic and cynical and insanely  _

_ kind even tho you have that big bad exterior and you _

_ have a goddamn heart of gold Dan, and since things  _

_ are potentially already fucked between us, I'm just  _

_ gonna come right out and say it - I'm fucking head  _

_ over heels for you, Dan, every part of you, and YES  _

_ that means the asexual part of you too so dont even  _

_ try and let your head tell you otherwise _

_ Like I said I've fallen so hard for you, okay? When we  _

_ kissed i stg it was like a daydream of mine coming true _

_ right before my freaking eyes, Dan. Youre someone  _

_ truly incredible and goddamn i would love to be a part _

_ of your life, as sex free as freaking possible in any way  _

_ you would have me. _

_ This got really long and I hope youre not responding bc  _

_ youre sleeping but Dan please call me whenever you _

_ read these okay? I dont want you to think that I could  _

_ hate you or anything bc of your sexuality bc that couldnt _

_ be further from the truth _

 

Dan looked up from the phone screen, and he could feel the streams of tears on his face. He hiccuped, and Phil had tears in his eyes as well, and such a  _ pained  _ look on his face.

"Can I hug you?" He asked, his voice tight. Dan nodded hurriedly, and Phil wasted no time, scooting forward and instantly wrapping his long arms right around Dan, pulling him into his lap. Dan started to sob, and Phil clung to him.

"I don't find you disgusting, or shameful, or wrong, or broken, or anything, Dan, anything but who you are. You're asexual and you're you and I would never,  _ never,  _ want you to be someone else. I'm so sorry you had to hide. I'm so sorry you got scared and I fucking  _ hate _ whatever and whoever made you so terrified to be yourself." Phil said, sniffling himself. "Please believe me, Dan." Phil whispered. Dan nodded, his head pressed against Phil's shoulder. He wanted to say something,  _ anything,  _ but his mouth wasn't working and his brain had shut down and he was  _ crying. _

Phil held him as he cried, almost just like how Jaime had been holding him not too long ago. And when the tears stopped, Phil just continued to rub Dan's back. They didn't say anything, and part of Dan was grateful for that, but the other part of him wanted to try and tell Phil a thousand things at once. His brain was stuck like a broken record player, a mantra of  _ Phil Phil Phil  _ bouncing around his skull. He was wrong, wrong wrong wrong, Phil didn't hate him, he  _ didn't. _

And in that moment, Dan was reminded of the ghosts of his past. And he wanted to  _ tell.  _ He suddenly craved spilling it all out for Phil, leaving himself bare and open and pushing all of the secrets Dan has held inside of him for so long out in the open. 

"It started with my ex." 

Dan felt Phil shift his position underneath him but Phil didn't let go of Dan once. He took a deep breath and continued.   
"She and I had been friends, and we eventually started dating. It was nice, and she was great, real lovely and sweet and kind. We went on a few dates and held hands and kissed a few times—all that stuff. We started going steady, and seven months in and a few times of trying on her end, she convinced me to have sex with her." Dan said, starting to pick at a string on his duvet. "I did it mainly because I wanted to make her happy, and because I thought that I always felt so off about sex due to never having it. I didn't know that something like asexuality existed. I didn't like it,  _ hated  _ it in fact, and by the end of it, I was trying to balance a panic attack. I ended up leaving after a few minutes to 'clean up'," Dan made little quotes with his hands, "but when I got to the bathroom I threw up and panicked."

Dan stopped and licked his lips. He hated reliving it, but at the same time he wanted to talk about it with Phil, he wanted Phil to know everything about him. God, Dan was even confusing to himself.

"It was my first time, but I don't think it was hers, and after I came back we cuddled and watched some movies and stuff. She didn't seem to realize that anything was wrong. After that sex became something normal in our relationship. She would always initiate it, and I would never say no, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this time would be the time when my head and my body got the message that I was supposed to  _ like  _ this. But it never happened and months passed and I just kept getting more and more depressed and anxious. I started making up excuses to get out of it, and when she called me out on it, claiming that I didn't love her anymore, I told her that I was asexual. I wasn't really confident in my label because I had found it only for a few weeks at that point, but after I kind of explained how I hated sex with her and felt disgusting and threw up and was so  _ so  _ anxious, she got quiet. And then…" Dan swallowed, "and then she started yelling. She told me that I was lying, that there was no thing such as asexuality, and that I was just making stuff up at that point. She said...a lot of other stuff too."

"Can I ask what?" Phil said, his voice just as much of a whisper as Dan's. It wavered, and there was something tight and emotional in it. Dan nodded. 

"After I kept trying to convince her that I  _ was  _ asexual and that it  _ was  _ real, she changed tactics. She broke up with me on the spot and told me that I was a freak and that there was something wrong and broken with me. She told me that no one would ever love me if I didn't give anyone sex. That I could just...die alone and 'like I should'. She said that too, the whole, 'like I should' thing. And then she kicked me out of her house and told me she never wanted to see me again."

When Dan finished, Phil moved his hands to Dan's shoulders and tugged gently, pulling Dan's head away from the crook of Phil's neck that it had been resting in. He was frowning heavily.

"You don't believe that, right?"

Dan shrugged. He didn't know how to tell Phil the truth, but he was sure that Phil could see how he was blinking back tears. Fuck, his past  _ hurt. _

Phil's frown just got deeper, and his head jerked, as if he had wanted to move it forward but decided against it at the last moment.

"Promise me you'll deck me if I make you uncomfortable, okay?"

"Phil?"

"Just promise."

"Okay…" Dan said warily. Phil nodded, and leaned forward, kissing Dan's forehead. 

"You aren't a freak."

Phil's lips moved to Dan's temple.

"You aren't broken."

His cheek.

"You aren't wrong or unnatural."

A kiss on his nose.

"No one that actually matters wouldn't love you just because you're ace."

Dan's other cheek.

"And you won't die alone because you don't 'deserve' that."

Phil pulled back fully, and  _ fuck,  _ Dan felt like he could start crying again. Phil rubbed his thumb over Dan's cheekbone, the rest of his hand cupping Dan's jaw, and Dan leaned into the touch.

"Was she the only one you've ever told?"

"No, I told you, and Jaime, and my parents. All of my friends and schoolmates found out too, but I didn't tell them. She told them."

Phil frowned.

"Did none of them seriously accept you?"

Dan laughed humorlessly. "No, not one. From then on I was the laughing stock of the whole fucking school. A teenage boy who throws up after sex? Pathetic. I was  _ asking  _ for all of the assholes that picked on me afterwards. And it's not like I have the best track record with people actually thinking that I'm not, you know, a  _ freak.  _ My mum started crying after I told her, like I had just said I was dying from some terminal disease. And my dad straight up threw me out after he was through screaming at me. I ended up sneaking back in after they had gone to bed to grab a bag full of stuff and all of the money I could carry, so I wasn't that bad off, but it took me a few days to move down here and find a place to stay." Dan gestured to the flat they were in. "I then got the first job I could find, which was the one down at the coffee shop and I met Jaime, thank god. Thankfully I told them after I had finished school, though I didn't get the chance to go to uni like I planned. Two years later, I'm still in the same spot I crashed in." Dan's voice was raw and there were a few tears making their way down his face, but Phil would just wipe them away with his fingers. 

"How long has Jaime known?"

"Not very. Last night after I ran out on you I ended up at her place and broke down and told her. She accepted me, don't worry, and we ended up crying in her kitchen together. It's also where she and I did this," Dan said, pointing to his hair. Phil smirked and ran his fingers through it.

"I noticed the hair, believe me, it was one of the first things my eyes went to when you opened your door. I just had much more pressing things to try and hopefully work out with you than your sudden hair change."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Phil said, his hand once again dragging its way through Dan's curls that he had yet to tame. Dan melted into the contact and felt his body relax, sighing happily. 

"This is okay, right?" 

Dan nodded, still feeling very content with Phil's hands raking through his hair. 

"Mhm, definitely. Kissing, hugging, cuddling and all that is okay because none of it is sex. And god playing with my hair is at the top of the list." Dan blurted out. He felt his face grow red instantly from his confession, and Phil laughed. 

"Guess I know your kryptonite, then. Though Dan, I have another question, if you don't mind."

Dan's stomach dropped and he felt fear crawl up his spine no matter how much he couldn't help it. It was his gut reaction and Dan suspected that he would still need quite a while to get over it.

"Ask away."

"Did you get  _ any  _ sleep last night because I also noticed your horrendous eye bags."

Dan gasped and shoved Phil's shoulder, who started to giggle, a hand coming up in front of his mouth. Dan tried to keep up his annoyed charade, but his face cracked into a smile in no time and then he was laughing right along with Phil, the tense air that had been between them ever since Phil showed up to his door dissipating into something much more natural and much more... _ them. _

"Okay okay, but seriously, Dan you look bloody exhausted."

"And? You don't look that much better, Philly." Dan rolled his eyes, but Phil just poked him.    
"Oi. I slept a little before I went nuts texting you, and then I got a handful of hours in after too. How about you, huh?" Phil poked Dan again. 

"Fine, if you must know, I think I got a few in total, but I don't know, exactly. I had trouble staying asleep and well, I gave up after a little." Dan said, shrugging. 

"Dan!"

"What? I was distressed! I deserve a free pass!" Dan cried. The playful attitude between them was still there, which Dan was grateful for. Phil hummed and wrapped his arms back around Dan, but he used their combined body weight to roll back. Dan was laying on top of Phil like this, and Phil's arms were still around him. 

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean I like it. Now sleep. You need it."

"Phil I can't just sleep on demand like that."    
"Yes you can, now shush, and  _ sleep _ ."

"Phil!" Dan whined, squirming a little but not trying very hard to break free of Phil's grasp. "What if I'm not tired? And besides, don't we still have to talk about stuff? Like  _ us _ —if there is an us—and maybe me if you have other questions still, or-"

"Shhhh" Phil said, pressing a finger to Dan's lips. "We're not talking about anything else until you get some sleep, Dan." Phil said. Dan rolled his eyes, but he also sunk into Phil's embrace. It felt nice to be held. 

They fell into silence, but it was comfortable and familiar. Sooner than Dan might have liked to admit, he started to feel his eyes droop, his exhaustion from the past two days catching up with him. 

"Sleep, Dan," Phil whispered, one of his hands playing with Dan's hair, "I'll still be here when you wake up."

Dan smiled, and let his eyes close.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI YALL I FINALLY WROTE A CUTE CHAPTER OKAY PLUS YOU GUYS CAN THANK @dansyellowshirt ON TUMBLR FOR INSPIRING ME TO FINALLY FINISH THIS CHAPTER

When Dan woke up it was dark in his flat. The television was off—which was  _ not  _ how Dan remembered leaving it—and none of his lights were on. The only source of light in the whole flat were the blinds on his big window being drawn, letting the moonlight filter into the room and giving everything the softest edge. 

He groaned after a moment of realizing that he was  _ awake _ , shuffling his body a little to try and get more comfortable. It was dark—obviously he wasn't supposed to be awake yet if the sun wasn't even up so why the  _ fuck  _ was he? 

Dan started to try and think back to what had happened earlier to put him in this position, however, when he started to move, whatever he was lying on top of shifted as well and let out a soft-yet-very  _ human  _ sound. Dan held his breath and suppressed a scream.  _ What the fucking hell-  _

Dan tried to jerk his body up into a sitting position only to fail due to some kind of weight resting on the small of his back. His heart still racing, Dan snapped up his neck instead of his whole body only to come face-to-face with Phil's sleeping one. 

_ What the  _ **_goddamn_ ** _ hell-  _

_ Oh.  _

Everything came rushing back to him all at once, and relieved at the fact that he hadn't been tied down to his couch by burglars or something just as utterly ridiculous in his sleep, Dan let out a breath and relaxed against Phil, feeling the anxiety in his system start to drain out. 

His peace of mind didn't last long, though, because half a heartbeat later he was blushing horribly and his head was already thinking of a million different excuses to...to explain  _ whatever  _ this was. 

Phil was lying on his back on the sofa, head propped up against the armrest. Dan was curled on top of him, his head tucked under Phil's neck and right up on his chest (Dan had a feeling that Phil's chin had been resting on his head while they had both been asleep. The thought made his heart race a little bit faster). Their bodies were tangled together under the duvet, their legs intertwined and Phil's arms cast around Dan's waist, Dan's own arms pulled under himself. The duvet itself was draped over the both of them in a bit of a mess, slipping off of the sofa and onto the floor at the one corner. 

Dan glanced up once again. Phil's face was smushed comically against the junction of the back of the couch and the armrest, mouth parted and hair sticking up in more ways than what was probably physically possible. His glasses—when the  _ fuck  _ had they appeared?—were askew and slipping off the bridge of his nose. Dan felt a dopey smile spread across his face. Phil was adorable when he was sleeping but  _ still  _ as much of an endearing mess as he was when he was awake. Unbelievable. 

He reached up and lifted the black frames from Phil's face, gently to try and avoid waking the older man. Phil didn't even stir, and Dan twisted around, reaching with his arm out to place the glasses on his coffee table. Phil grumbled in his sleep at Dan's fidgeting and brought his arms a little tighter around Dan's waist, one of his legs twitching. Dan snorted out of amusement, but settled back into place and held himself still. 

Under normal circumstances, Dan's head would be going crazy. He would be unconsciously psychoanalyzing everything in the situation and he would be doubting himself in his normal manner. But in a pleasant change of heart—or mind, rather—his head was staying blissfully quiet. Dan didn't have an explanation for it; it might have been because of waking up not too long ago, or maybe because he had absolutely exhausted himself with all of his emotional distress lately, or something else. Regardless, Dan wasn't going to force it. The quiet thoughts were a  _ welcome  _ change. 

Dan let his eyes drift up past Phil's face and to the exposed window and the stars outside of it. He had always loved to look at the stars ever since he was younger, and now that he was laying on top of Phil, letting himself be held, his head quiet, everything was so much  _ better.  _ If time decided to freeze right at this moment, Dan wouldn't even care.

* * *

 

The next thing Dan knew, he was yawning and cracking his eyes open. 

He groaned from the light nearly blinding him as soon as he lifted his eyelids even a little bit, and moved to tuck his face into the couch cushions, but ended up snuggling down further into the duvet still draped over him and shifting his whole body as well to try and get more comfortable. Dan started to nod off once more, when he suddenly realized that he was _alone_ on said sofa. 

Picking his head up and blearily opening his eyes, Dan looked around the lounge. He didn't see Phil anywhere, but his glasses weren't on the coffee table anymore. 

_ Did he leave?  _

Dan jumped as a loud yelp sounded form the kitchen and as well as what Dan could only guess was something metal—a fork or knife, maybe—clattering to the ground. 

"Phil?" 

Dan didn't get an answer, but he could hear Phil muttering to himself in the background, so very reluctantly, Dan rolled off of the couch and tugged the duvet tighter around his shoulders, not willing to give up the comfort just yet. Dan padded into the kitchen. A large handful of his cabinets were open and there were two bowls of cereal on the counter, the box of Crunchy Nut that Dan had left on the floor yesterday next to the poured cereal. Phil was bent over, picking up a spoon from the floor, which was probably what Dan had heard falling. 

"Phil?" Dan said again, with a bit of a yawn this time, rubbing his eye. He was tired as hell.

Phil jumped about a dozen feet into the air and dropped the spoon yet again, it clattering away from Phil's foot. Phil spun around with a hand on his chest, eyes wide. 

"Dan! You scared me!" 

"Phil," Dan sighed, rolling his eyes a little but smiling nonetheless, "sometimes I'm surprised by you, really." 

"Look, here I am trying to get us both a nice breakfast-" 

"Of cereal? Scratch that, of  _ my  _ cereal?" 

"Oh shut it. Like I said, here I was, being the perfect guest and you just scare me. Rude." Phil said, sticking his tongue out and picking up the dropped silverware. He slid the now-dirty spoon into Dan's sink and went to reach for another, but Dan stopped him. 

"Don't bother, I don't think I have any milk to pour in anyways, so we don't really need spoons as long as you don't have some weird 'no-eating-with-hands' thing I need to know about." Dan walked over and picked up his bowl of cereal, giving Phil a little, appreciative smile. "C'mon, we can eat in the lounge on my couch." 

Dan didn't really wait for Phil, but he could hear him moving—presumably—to follow Dan. As an afterthought, Dan called over his shoulder, "And close the cabinet doors!" to which Phil replied with a very indignant sounding "Yes, mum!" 

Within a few moments of Dan dropping himself back onto the couch, Phil was there as well, sitting on the other end, their legs both in the middle and on top of each other. Dan was reminded of a few nights ago, with them playing video games, his feet draped over Phil's lap, and what happened  _ after.  _ Dan looked at Phil out of the corner of his eye. He didn't really mind if he could get the chance to kiss Phil again. But the question was; did Phil? 

They ate in silence, but it wasn't an oppressive one, just the two of them munching and enjoying each other's company. Dan's thoughts were still a little hopeful, a little wary, but he tried to keep them tame enough to not show; he didn't want to ruin this with his insecurities. 

Dan finished his breakfast first, and he tapped his fingers against the ceramic for a few moments before he gave in. 

"Hey, Phil?" 

"Yeah?" 

He had to know. 

"Last night you said we wouldn't talk about anything until I slept, and well...I don't have work for-" Dan looked at the clock on his wall, "-another hour." He purposely left half of his question unsaid, and Phil nodded in understanding, making Dan simultaneously breathe out a little sigh of relief and tighten his grip on his bowl in anxious anticipation. 

"Just because of time, I don't think we should talk about anything too heavy," Phil began, finishing the bite in his mouth and swallowing, "but, I think you're right. We do have a bunch of stuff to sort out."

"Mhm...what do you, uh, want to sort out then?" Dan asked. He felt nervous and unlike earlier, he was sure that it showed with how his fingers wouldn't stop moving along the ceramic and how his shoulders were tense and pulled tight to his body.

Phil just smiled and plucked the empty bowl from Dan's hand, putting both of their bowls on the table near them and scooting forward. Phil clasped one of their hands together, and with the skin-on-skin contact his heart started to beat a little bit happier in his chest. Phil leaned in until their faces were close enough for Dan to see the starbursts of his eyes, and let his other hand fall to the side of Dan's head. 

"Can I kiss you, Dan?" Phil asked, his voice low. 

"Yes," Dan breathed, his voice even quieter than Phil's. 

This kiss wasn't like the ones they shared that night. It was softer, but still filled to the brim with emotion. These emotions, however, weren't like the powerful, fast, desperate ones that had dominated their kisses before. They were much more gentle, filled with a more soothing warmth, and—dare he say it—drenched in a feeling that Dan couldn't help but think as something similar to adoration. 

Phil's mouth was warm and his lips were velvet soft, dragging across Dan's, his thumb brushing Dan's cheekbone over and over, making Dan's head spin. Dan's eyes had long drifted closed, and he just let himself relax into the cushions, absolutely  _ melting _ under the kisses Phil was giving him. 

He nipped at Dan's lip and pulled back, Dan's head following him until his neck just wouldn't stretch anymore and he had to let it fall back against the sofa, a pout on his features but not even caring if Phil saw. 

"Phil, come back," Dan whined. Phil giggled at his antics, but decidedly didn't lean back in to kiss Dan breathless like he wanted him to. Instead, Phil brought their linked hands up so they could both see them and started to play with Dan's knuckles. 

"Dan, I wasn't kidding when I said I've fallen for you, completely and utterly. You're Dan Howell and you have my heart, right here in your hands." Phil squeezed Dan's hand with his own. "I would love nothing more than if you gave me the chance to be your boyfriend. To take you out on dates, and watch shitty Netflix movies with, and dance in the kitchen with at 3AM when we  _ certainly _ should be sleeping, and, yes, to play with your hair just like you said you love. I want to kiss you and surprise you at the coffee shop and do all the cheesy things couples do." Phil leaned in and dropped a series of little, feather-light kisses to Dan's forehead. "What do you say," he whispered, "will you give me the chance?"

"Phil," Dan said, drilling his eyes shut. He could feel his insecurities rising again, just as illogical as usual, and just as self-depreciative. "I can't love you completely, like how you  _ deserve _ . If we were to date—and  _ god,  _ do I want to date you—you'd have to give up sex because I'm sorry but I'm too sex repulsed to try and do anything with you, and I'd  _ never _ be able to stand anything like an open relationship, and-"

"Dan, Dan, shhh," Phil said, starting to stroke Dan's cheek again. It was incredibly soothing, and helped settled some of Dan's racing thoughts. "I don't care.  _ I don't care.  _ I can live perfectly content with never having sex again for the rest of my life if I have you, Dan. You are a thousand times better than sex, alright? And you  _ can  _ love me completely even if you aren't sexually attracted to me. I don't need physical pleasure to be happy or be loved 'as I deserve' even if that's what your ex and parents told you when you came out. All you need is love to give, and I have a feeling that you have a lot of that from shutting yourself out for so long." 

Their gazes were connected, and Dan didn't know if he was going to start crying or laughing—maybe both. Phil was smiling gently, his eyes so tender in their expression, and Dan wanted nothing more than to kiss this man, to kiss him and hug him and just hide them both away from the world to just be happy together. 

So that's what Dan did.

Dan surged forward, wrapping his arms around Phil's shoulders and pulling him in, their mouths crashing together. Dan kissed him like he was a dying man and he was trying to commit the feeling of Phil's mouth to memory, and Phil returned the sentiment just as eagerly, carding his hands through Dan's hair and following every press of Dan's lips with his own. 

God, why did Dan ever try and deny himself from falling in love with Phil? Why did he get so caught up in being scared of what happened in the past to enjoy the future? Why didn't he start kissing this man  _ sooner _ ?

Dan didn't know any answers to his questions, but  _ fuck  _ it didn't matter.

They broke away because they had started to run out of air and Dan brought his hands up to Phil's face, cupping it, and nodding, shaking his head up and down furiously, moisture shining in his eyes. He couldn't help it—he didn't remember the last time he had felt.  _ So. Loved. And. Accepted.  _

"Yes, yes yes yes, Phil, god, I'd want nothing more," Dan whispered, chasing his own words with little kisses on Phil's cheeks, his nose, his forehead, everywhere. 

Phil's  _ entire face  _ lit up like the fucking sky and a smile blinding enough to shadow the sun took over his face. He brought them back together, and this time their kiss was slow, both of them smiling into it, wrapped up in each other. 

"Daniel Howell, you just made me the happiest man on this side of the Thames."

* * *

 

No matter how much Dan might not have wanted to, they had to disentangle themselves much sooner than preferable because Dan had to shower and get ready for work. He had already been let off the hook by Jaime once, and he refused to leave her hanging like that for a second day in a row. Plus, he needed the money desperately. 

However, things were different than his normal routine. Because when he got out of the shower, Phil kissed him on the way in. Because Phil was standing in his kitchen, scrolling on his phone, in Dan's own clothes because Phil only had his Tesco's uniform and he had already slept in it last night. Because they had walked out together, Phil's hand snaking down to intertwine in Dan's within a block of leaving Dan's flat. Because Phil had gone out of his way to walk Dan to work even if it was in the opposite direction of his own flat. Because Phil kissed Dan sweetly on the lips before letting him go, promising to stop in later.

But as Dan walked in the shop, a million emotions swirling in his chest, threatening to burst, they settled, each one fluttering away until only one was left, making Dan's limbs feel light and warm, putting a dumbstruck smile on his face that he knew would end up lasting the whole day.

Dan was happy.

And he wouldn't change it for the world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW WAS THAT FOR FLUFF
> 
> (also, just an fyi, updates may become a little bit slower, depending on a couple of things. I'm going to start working soon and since Friday (tomorrow) is my last day of school, I have to turn in my school laptop, and I don't have another one. 
> 
> HOWEVER I will still be getting updates to you guys!
> 
> They just may be like every week and a half instead of once or twice a week)
> 
> xx


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late, but idk I'm not too too happy with it? I just hit a brick wall with this chapter, that's why it's been a while. Anyways, thank you you guys for waiting patiently! Enjoy this chapter!

Dan was  _ not  _ happy.

In fact, he was fucking  _ pissed. _

When he and Phil had finally parted ways, Dan had walked into the coffee shop in absolute  _ bliss.  _ The shop looked to be in the process of being half-open when he entered, most of the lights being on and the self-serve bar already filled. Jaime wasn't anywhere to be seen, though Dan could hear the sounds of someone moving in the back. They were probably out of cups again. 

While he waited for Jaime to resurface from the supply room, Dan tied on his apron and pinned the name-tag to his chest. He was starting to set the register for the day when he heard steps behind him and the closing of the heavy supply door. 

"Jaime, you'll never fucking believe what the hell  _ happened,  _ I-" Dan started, turning around to face his best friend with a huge grin on his face. Jaime  _ wasn't  _ the one to stumble out from the supply door, though, and Dan could feel his happy mood shatter as none other than Steve surfaced, accompanied with an impossible amount of things in his arms threatening to spill over any second. 

Instantly, Dan's smile crashed and his heart dropped to his toes. Fuck….where the hell was Jaime? 

"Would you stop staring and give me a hand? It's bad enough that you're late to work anyways." He grumbled, his frown already deepening. It was like Dan's presence was just...sucking the life from him. 

Dan could say the same.

He didn't immediately move to help due to equal parts of reluctance and utter surprise at seeing his prickly coworker instead of his Jaime. He jerked into action however when a bag of coffee grounds decided to kamikaze off of the top of the armload of things Steve was carrying, scooping it up before it could touch the ground and depositing it onto the counter.

"Oh, that's all you can carry, huh?" 

Dan turned, a scowl on his face that matched Steve's perfectly. 

"Sorry, but I was a little thrown off to see you here instead of Jaime. You  _ could  _ have just taken a second trip, you know."

"Yeah, and you  _ could  _ have just shown up when you were supposed to. Besides, Jaime said she told you we were working together, so that's bullshit." 

Dan wanted to scream and they hadn't even opened already, one, because of Steve's asshole attitude, and two, because Jaime  _ didn't  _ tell him, but he just clenched his jaw and turned back to the register. He could pull a shift with Steve without knocking the guy's teeth out, he's done it before, he can do it again. 

_ Maybe with a miracle,  _ Dan thought as he heard Steve stumble through starting the many coffee makers, grumbling to himself and making a mess that Dan would surely have to clean up. 

He was restocking their supply of change in the register a few moments later and feeling a tad bit better about the situation—assuming they would both be able to just keep to themselves the whole shift—when something was thrown in his direction, hitting the side of his head and making Dan drop all of the coins in his hands onto the floor in surprise. The coins scattered in every direction and Dan swore loudly, looking up at Steve with murderous eyes, one hand coming up to his temple where  _ whatever  _ Steve threw at him had hit, even though it hadn't particularly hurt. Steve met his gaze with a mildly surprised expression—complete with a raised eyebrow—and shrugged. 

"Didn't mean to hit you in the head, but I can't help but notice your...well,  _ hair.  _ I don't think my uncle would want his business represented like that, so, put the hat on." 

Dan glanced down to see one of the coffee shop employee hats crumpled on the ground. They were only required to be worn to pull an employee's long hair back and were otherwise completely optional, so Jaime and the other part-time girls that worked here were the only ones that really bothered with them. Dan flicked his gaze back up to Steve and glared with all of his might, trying to just  _ murder  _ the guy with his eyes. 

"I've never had to wear one before I don't see why I have to now." Dan ground out, his jaw clenched. 

"To my knowledge, Daniel, you've never decided to dye your hair before, so I guess this is a new experience for all of us." He responded, his voice dripping with distaste. 

"What about Jaime's hair, huh? You've never said anything to her about her dyed hair so what's the big fucking deal with mine?" Dan shot back, his temper rising faster than he would have liked. His anger flared even further at being referred to as  _ Daniel.  _ Steve knew perfectly well that Dan didn't like his full name. 

"She wears a hat, does she not?" Steve quipped. 

Dan narrowed his eyes, but he didn't really have a smart-ass comeback for that because she  _ did,  _ it just wasn't because her hair was more red than a cherry was, but because of its length. 

_ Not that Steve would  _ **_fucking_ ** _ acknowledge that, though.  _

"Exactly." Steve said after Dan didn't immediately respond. "Put on the hat. And stop swearing." 

Dan was about ready to explode, but this asshat's uncle was his boss and owned the whole damn shop and Dan barely had enough money as it was working as much as possible on a decent pay grade, so he really didn't need to get fired and have to work at minimum wage at some grocery store. Not to mention he would have to move or work roughly nonstop to pay his bills at that much of a pay cut. 

So in the effort of his future, Dan bent down and picked up the hat, fitting it over his straightened hair with as much distaste as he could manage. Steve smirked and turned back around to continue beginning to brew coffee. 

Angry and sufficiently humiliated, Dan shuffled about on his hands and knees, picking up all of the coins he dropped and sorting through them to put back into the register. They didn't say anything to each other, but then again words weren't needed to be able to feel the tension and utter hatred in the air between them. 

After that, they finished the chores that they needed to accomplish without anything else being thrown or spilled, even if the split was uneven and Dan ended up doing the most of them. They opened and worked side by side in relative silence, serving a wide range of coffees in a short amount of time with a very abrupt influx of customers. The only thing that broke the monotone between them was the passive-aggressive bullshit Steve pulled. It was little shoves and almost-trips as Steve passed Dan, making Dan's blood rage in his ears because there was no way that he could go to his boss about this—Steve had his uncle wrapped around his little finger. God, he fucking  _ hated  _ Steve. 

When Mary popped in not that long after opening, even she easily picked up on his sour mood. 

"Why the long face, love? Is it because Jaime isn't in today?" She asked him, after exchanging their normal pleasantries. 

Dan didn't really get the chance to answer before Steve was walking past him as Dan was in the midst of making Mary's coffee, bumping Dan out of the way. Dan hissed as some of the scalding hot liquid splashed up on his hand, pulling his hand away immediately on reflex and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth where he licked away the coffee and tried to sooth his skin. Dan lunged for the sink, turning on the cold water and thrusting his hand under it, breathing out a little in relief as the frigid water rushed over it. The skin where the coffee had made contact with was red and angry, throbbing and still hot to the touch when he dried his hands off. Dan bit his lip and gave Mary a sheepish almost-smile as he threw out the ruined coffee. 

"Don't worry, I'll have another one for you in a minute." he muttered, already starting to make it. He was favoring his right, non-burned hand because his left ached something fierce, but it was fine. Everything was fine. 

Mary, however, was frowning. 

"Daniel slow down, I'm not in a rush. And please, for heaven's sake stop using your hand! You just burned it! Why don't you take a break and find a bandage for it, hun?" she cried shooing her hand at Dan from behind the counter as if to make him stop working herself. 

Dan chewed at his lip again, a nervous habit he picked up years ago. He could technically take a break any time he needed if he was injured, and there was definitely a first-aid kit in the employee break room, but then again, Steve would probably give him hell over taking an unscheduled break, if anything call up his uncle after their shift and give him an earful about Dan "being clumsy" and "costing the business money". He looked down at his hand and noted the aggravated skin and dull pain, and decided he could make it until lunch. He could properly address it then—surely a few hours without care wouldn't be catastrophic.

"If you keep it up like that then you're only going to injure yourself more. Besides, I need to give that other young man a talking to that was no way to act." Mary continued, huffing and already looking past Dan as if she was trying to find Steve and chew his ear out for being a douche. The mental image made Dan smile, and he turned his attention back to her as he took his injured left hand off of the coffee machine. 

"Hey, it's no problem, I've burned myself before."  _ The last time being back during training, probably.  _ "And don't worry, Mary, we've got bandages in the back."  _ That Jaime would 100% let me go get, the only problem being that Jaime isn't  _ **_here_ ** _. _ "I'll fix myself up after I help you with your coffee."  _ A few hours later, that is, but who's counting?  _

Mary didn't look convinced, but only set her lips in a tight line and watched carefully as Dan finished making her her replacement coffee like she would vault the counter and help him herself if Dan so much as injured himself even a tiny bit further. 

After another stern warning to take care of himself and a death glare in Steve's direction, Mary shuffled her way out. Dan gave her a little wave and kept the small smile on his face until she was gone. However, immediately afterwards he let his smile slip and double-timed it over to the little door that separated the public from where the employees made coffee. He passed Steve, and when he gave Dan an incredulous look, Dan just pushed past him, giving him a bullshit excuse of needing to go to the bathroom. 

And,  _ technically,  _ Steve couldn't complain about that, so, fucking suck it, Steve. 

Dan shoved the door open with his shoulder and let out a breath of relief when there turned out to be no one else in there. He went immediately to a stall and locked the door, sitting on the toilet seat and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it, and before he could google information on burns via coffee, his eyes caught on several text notifications. 

 

**> > From: my maraschino cherry**

_ hey dan, look i know this kind of sucks  _

_ but im kinda having a crisis? u remember _

_ that acting role i was going for right? well i  _

_ got a call-back (!!!) and its in a few hours  _

_ and i cant come in to work today _

_ i tried to sweet talk the boss into it NOT being  _

_ steve but idk if it worked _

_ also _

_ answer ur phone stupid i didnt want to type  _

_ all of this _

_ plus i might have wanted to gush with u via  _

_ phone but whatevs _

_ anyways im stopping by on my way back later _

_ like probs around dinner so u know my pizza  _

_ toppings and we're going to iron shit out we've _

_ got a lot to talk abt danny boy _

_ (also get some ice cream in case this doesnt  _

_ go well kay ty) _

 

The timestamp read to be somewhere around the time that Dan got up this morning, so as it turned out, yes, Jaime  _ did  _ tell him that she wasn't coming into work today, and he would have known that if he had only looked at his damn phone. 

Dan read over the texts again and felt his heart surge for his best friend. Jaime had wanted to be a thriving actress since she was three, and so far had only gotten as far as school plays and extremely minor parts in bust shows. It was a dream that the both of them shared, but unlike Dan, Jaime was still going for it. 

She auditioned for every opportunity that she got. Movies, plays, shows, anything. Sometimes, like now, she would get call-backs, but more times than not she wouldn't hear anything back. It wasn't because of her lack of talent, but mainly due to large productions looking for people that were already  _ known,  _ as much bullshit as it may be.

Dan remembered this one that she was going for. It was a musical that had so far received decent press and attention, and if Jaime could land a significant part in it, it could potentially help her career as an actress take off. 

Smiling widely, Dan typed out a few texts congratulating her and wishing her the best of luck even if by now she would probably be mid-audition. He also readily promised the pizza and ice cream, but not after making sure to tell her that she wouldn't need it, because she was going to do  _ great.  _

Dan looked at the clock on his phone, and sighed before slipping it away. If he spent any longer in the bathroom, it might start to look a tad suspicious to Steve, so he might as well avoid the WebMD diagnosis of his death-via-coffee-burn until lunch. 

He exited the stall and caught his own eye in the mirror, fixing his blue hair under his hat so it didn't look  _ too much  _ of a mess before slipping back out of the bathroom and returning to his position behind the counter. Steve was in the middle of making a frowning CEO-looking guy his coffee, and there was luckily no one else in the queue. 

"About time you got back. Damn you take longer than a girl." Steve muttered just loud enough for Dan to hear as he passed him. Dan bristled, but like normal didn't say anything back. He just took a deep breath and smiled at the mum and her young kids walking through the door and up to the register. 

"Hi, how can I help you?"

* * *

 

"Dan, why don't you make yourself useful and go wipe down the counter, yeah? My uncle isn't paying you to stand around and do nothing all day."

Gritting his teeth impossibly hard, Dan stomped over to the counter in question (that he had cleaned  _ twice already today _ , and it was barely even  _ noon _ ), both of his hands in tight fists, one of them strangling the cleaning rag. 

The few moments of calm and secondhand happiness for Jaime that he had had in the bathroom ended up carrying him over for an hour before he just sunk right back down to his previous state of miserableness from before. But that was a few hours ago. Now, he was seething and tired and about ready to  _ snap.  _

He started to hate-clean the self-serve counter, roughly putting things back where they went after he wiped the surface down, and refilling the sugar so aggressively a uni student veered away from him with wide eyes. 

Dan didn't give a flying fuck, he just wanted to go home. 

He was nearly finished when a hand touched his arm. Immediately he tore away from the hand and threw down the rag, spinning around and already opening his mouth to just fucking  _ scream  _ at Steve because damnit Dan could take the verbal abuse but he would bring hell before he let Steve put his hands on him. He nearly choked when he found Phil standing there with concerned eyes, his hand still outstretched from where Dan ripped away from it. 

"Dan?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting together, "Are you okay?" 

The fight in Dan just... _ drained _ out of him and he let out a deep sigh, feeling his shoulders droop and head fall. He ran a hand through his hair and gripped at the strands, messing it up and rucking up the hat on his head. 

"Yeah I just…" He let the words fade, not even having the energy to try and come up with a summary of his morning brief enough that wouldn't worry Phil further. 

Phil looked like he wanted to wrap Dan up in his arms and Dan honestly would have welcomed it, but in the universe's normal fashion, the chance went up in flames with a shout from Steve behind him. 

"Dan, I'm going out for a cigarette, take over!" Steve called, not even waiting for Dan to acknowledge him and making straight for the door outside after walking right past the massive line of people waiting for service. 

Swearing under his breath, Dan rushed past Phil to get behind the counter, helplessly giving Phil an apology over his shoulder. 

By using probably all of his luck for the next year, Dan was able to give the half a dozen people in the queue their coffees without spilling a single one of them and in a relatively timely fashion, only one of the customers becoming annoyed with the slower than normal service. 

_ That's what happens when there's only one person working the counter, asshat.  _

Dan ran up the latest person on the register and automatically started to run up another sale when someone else stepped up to the register. Dan put the money he had been handed from the last customer in the register tray as he half-heartedly greeted whoever was in line now. 

"Hi, how can I help you?" 

Out of the corner of his eye Dan saw the cleaning rag he had completely forgotten about and left behind plop down onto the counter and held back a sigh. If he was going to have a customer chew him a new one for accidentally leaving a rag out he was going to quit on the spot. 

"Yes, I need you to take a break." 

Dan breathed out as he recognized the voice. Phil. Of course, always Phil. 

Dan laughed a little. 

"If only, Phil." 

"Dan…" 

The tone of Phil's voice made Dan look up. Phil had the same look as before, but it was darkened by anger. Dan felt his stomach drop. Was Phil mad at him for something? What did he do? 

Dan must have been too exhausted to try and mask his emotions because Phil sighed and grabbed Dan's hand over the counter. 

"I'm not mad at you. Is that 'the guy' from earlier—the asshole Steve you were telling me about?" 

The feeling of Phil's thumb dragging over Dan's knuckles was normally so soothing, but Phil had grabbed Dan's left one, also known as the hand that Dan had aggressively burned earlier thanks to his  _ wonderful  _ coworker. Hissing under his breath as Phil's gentle touch sent pain shooting up his arm, Dan withdrew his hand hastily. Phil looked hurt and surprised, but his gaze fell on Dan's burned hand and his gaze once again darkened. Dan wanted to cry but instead just shut Phil down from asking about it by hastily replying. 

"Yeah. Jaime's at an audition, so she's not in today." 

The bell above the door ran once again, and Dan pulled away further, reluctantly ready to deal with more customers. However, Steve walked through the opening, and Dan wasn't sure if he was more relieved at the prospect of not having to fill another order, or resigned to the end of his brief break from Steve. 

Phil, however, brightened immediately and plastered on a fake smile. 

"Ah, you must be Steve! Cool, Dan can take his lunch break now that you're back." And before Dan could try and tell Phil that that really  _ wasn't  _ how things worked, Phil was already reaching over the counter and stealing Dan's pin and apron, shoving them into Steve's arms with a bright smile. Steve sputtered, protesting, but Phil just straight up ignored him, turning to Dan and beckoning him. In a sort-of daze, Dan followed, and once he was out from behind the counter, Phil grabbed his non-burned hand and pulled him out the door of the coffee shop. 

Phil gave Dan's hand a squeeze and looked back at him, his eyebrow once again knit and frowning. His eyes roved over Dan's frame, taking in his exhausted stature and overall ragged state of being. He frowned further and reached up, plucking the hat off of Dan's head. 

"You shouldn't hide your hair." 

Satisfied at the moment, Phil's attention shifted, and he hailed a taxi, opening the door for Dan and sliding in next to him, leaning up and telling the driver an address that Dan didn't quite hear before settling back into the seat. He draped his arm over Dan's shoulders and pulled the younger man into his side. Dan went willingly. 

"Phil, where are we going? I'm still going to have to get back for the other half of my shift." He muttered, trying to will his body to relax. 

"We're going home to my flat because you need a break. And don't worry, I'll have you back, but not after you get in some proper rest." 

Dan tried to protest at that, because really, Phil didn't need to spend the money for a taxi just for a half and hour before Dan would have to go back, but Phil wouldn't hear it, just shushing him every time Dan tried to point out how they could have just stayed at the shop and that he wasn't worth the trouble.  

"There would be no way that you could properly relax while in the same place as  _ him _ . And besides this saves me from getting arrested for assault and buying a coffee just to dump on his head." Phil glowered as if the mere thought of Steve upset him, and Dan laughed, imagining passive Phil dumping a coffee on anyone. 

"Don't laugh, someone has to defend your honor, Dan." 

"Well thanks for assuming I  _ have  _ honor, you spoon," Dan laughed, bumping their shoulders together playfully. He still felt tired and drained as hell, but Dan felt a little bit better than he had been.  _ Progress.  _

They were at Phil's flat in no time, Phil paying for the taxi despite Dan's protests and leading Dan up the steps afterwards. 

Phil's flat was just as it was when Dan had last been in, and Dan kicked his shoes off at the door like he had last time before flopping face-first on the couch. He heard Phil move around in the flat for a few moments before Phil returned to the lounge. Dan didn't lift his head up from where it was shoved into the couch, but he did relax, even as Phil rested a hand on his shoulder. 

"Can I see your hand? I have a bandage and some cream that should help you." 

Dan wordlessly lifted his hand up, unsure of where Phil was standing over him since Dan was trying very hard to become one with the couch at the moment, but Phil just grabbed his hand by the wrist as gently as possible, leading it over and resting it palm down on Phil's knee. Curious, Dan unburied his head from the cushions and turned it. Phil was sitting on the table, a look of careful and intense concentration on his face as he grabbed the tube of cream, squeezing some out onto his fingers and massaging it into Dan's skin. It didn't hurt—Phil was too gentle for that—but Dan could still feel his face heating up and his breath catch a little. 

It had been awhile since he had been treated like something precious. 

He watched as Phil worked, and laughed as Phil rubbed the excess cream on his fingers onto his jeans with a grimace. Phil grabbed the little roll of gauze and started to wrap up Dan's hand, glancing up with a pout. 

"Here I am, sacrificing my jeans to make you feel better and you're  _ laughing  _ at me. Remind me why I love you." 

The comment was a passing thought, obviously not meant to be taken with too much weight, but it still had Dan's heart skip a what was probably a few beats in his chest. He knew that Phil didn't mean it like that, but the notion that he did still warmed Dan's body all over and had him smiling as he watched Phil bandage his hand. 

When Phil was finished, he dropped a kiss onto Dan's knuckles. 

"There we go, all better." 

Phil left everything on the table and stood, walking out of his lounge and to his kitchen. Dan could hear him shuffling about—opening cabinets and rifling through the contents in his fridge. 

"I've been putting off a trip to Tesco's for about a week now, so how does unhealthy snacks sound for lunch? Or we could always venture out and try to find something?" 

Dan smiled even though he was alone in the lounge. Phil was offering up the opportunity to have a legitimate meal, but didn't he know by now that Dan would much rather hole up and eat junk, just the two of them? 

"Bring on the snacks, Lester." 

Phil came back with an armful of various snacks, and Dan peeled himself up off the couch so Phil didn't have to sit on top of him. Dan cheered when he saw that Phil had his favorite flavor of crisps and stole them from Phil with a wide grin. Phil pouted—or at least tried to—but Dan could see the smile peeking out as he turned on the TV. Phil flipped through the channels until they found a movie on that was worth watching for the little bit of time that they had until Dan had to get back to work, and settled back, sneaking a few crisps from Dan while he was at it. 

They're sides were pressed completely together with how they were sitting, and even if he ended up getting a few stains on his shirt because he couldn't be bothered to get up and grab a napkin, or whining when Phil dragged him out of the flat and back to work, or pouting in the taxi ride back to the coffee shop, Dan was still soaking up all of Phil's time and attention, loving having him near enough to hold his hand and kiss him. 

Dan ignored the glare from Steve as he walked back behind the counter, even shooting the guy a smile as he fitted the hat back on over his hair. 

"You can take your lunch break now, thanks for covering." 

Steve looked insanely suspicious and overall pissed, but Dan didn't care. His spirits were renewed and he felt refreshed. He could last the rest of his shift, no problem. 

Dan smiled at the lady walking up to the register. 

"Hi, how can I help you?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to start a petition to like throw Steve off of the nearest cliff who's with me


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK AT IT AGAIN LADS
> 
> in other news hi I apparently don't know my own limits and have been trying to work on this fic, normal life, balance vacation, beta for two fics, and write THREE fics for the PBB!!!!!!!! yay!!!!!!!!
> 
> so tysm for sticking around here's 10/10 Jaime and Dan bonding time to make up for not updating in a while <333

Dan curled himself up in a blanket on his couch, phone in hand. 

He hadn't heard from Jaime at all today minus her early morning texts, but knowing her, she'd still burst into Dan's flat in a whirlwind after her audition for one of her and Dan's infamous Best Friends Only Nights. 

No significant others, no texting other people, no social media, just the two of them, ice cream, pizza, every blanket and pillow they can find, and sad romcoms playing in the background as they talk and cry and laugh. 

And as far as preparation, Dan had already ordered the pizza, there was plenty of ice cream in his freezer, and at least half a dozen blankets were swallowing the sofa. 

All he was missing was his best friend. 

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ so youre telling me I wont get you at ALL _

_ tonight? _

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ yep. a Best Friends Only Night was called _

_ and rules state no s.o. just us bffs _

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ >:( _

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ srry mate but youll survive i promise _

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ I might just die you dont know _

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ wow i didnt know i picked up such a  _

_ needy boyfriend _

 

Dan grinned. He may have sounded exasperated in his text, but really, Phil whining about not having Dan for a single night was making his mood soar. 

It felt good to be wanted by someone other than just Jaime. 

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ ddddaaaaaannnnnnn _

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ pppphhhhiiiilllllll _

 

**> > From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ fine but I get you tomorrow so I can catch _

_ up on my very important dan time _

 

**> > To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)**

_ u can get ur dan time and i can get my _

_ phil time it sounds like a plan _

 

Dan clicked off his phone when he heard his door fly open. There's Jaime, late as usual. 

"Daniel Howell, where the  _ fuck  _ are you!" 

"On the sofa already starting this Best Friends Night without you!" Dan laughed in response. She sounded breathless but happy, which was making Dan's hopes for her soar. She  _ had  _ to have gotten that role. 

Jaime was there in a moment, landing on him in a heap and talking a mile a minute, too fast for Dan to catch everything, but managing to grasp a few words here or there. Still not enough to piece together a proper story about her day, though. 

"Jaime," Dan said quickly when she stopped to breathe, "I need you to slow down—you're talking way too fast for me to understand you dork. Did you get the part? Or do I need to kick a judge's ass?" 

She looked at Dan with wide eyes and smiled, wide enough to cover her whole face. 

"I got it. I got the part." She said in a whisper, like she couldn't believe the words. 

Dan felt his jaw drop in one moment and the next snap right back up so he could cheer as he tackled her in a hug, his much larger body easily covering hers. 

"I knew it! I knew it, Jaime! God! This is the break you were waiting for and you're gonna be a star now and oh my gosh when are the tickets going out I'm going to buy five and-"

"Dan!" She said, laughing. "Now you're the one rambling!"

Dan clamped his jaw shut to stop himself, feeling his eyes crinkle and smile go wide. 

"I'm just way too happy for you, Jaime. You've got to tell me  _ everything. _ "

They ended back up on the couch, huddled together under the blanket Dan had previously been under alone. Jaime relayed everything to him, from the sudden call-back to her trip there. She talked about how  _ huge  _ the theatre was and how Dan would absolutely  _ love  _ it. Jaime talked about the director and the cast so far, and how there was this really cute girl that was a part of the stage crew, and Dan just soaked it all up, getting caught in the glamour. 

Jaime reached for another slice of the pizza that had arrived half-way through her explaining that the theatre had  _ three gigantic chandeliers _ . 

"All of the main parts have been casted already, but now they're moving on to the 'second wave' so to speak, and auditions are opening back up in a few days so..." Jaime trailed off, looking hopeful. 

Dan snorted. 

"Jaime, I know you're excited but you can't have two parts." 

" _ Sciocco, _ I mean for  _ you  _ to try for a part! Not me!" 

"Jaime, I haven't acted in anything in over a year-" 

"Dan-" 

"-and besides I won't get it." 

"You don't know that! I thought I wasn't even going to get a call-back and look where we are right now! I'm the face of this musical!" 

"Yeah, well I'm sure that all of the people that  _ didn't  _ get a main character like you are going to try out for the smaller ones and there's no doubt that they're better than me."

"Dan, you're an  _ insane  _ actor—there's no way that you couldn't get even the smallest part! And besides, do you really want to be a barista for the rest of your life? Acting is your  _ dream,  _ Dan. These directors are picking new talent that hasn't been seen on a big stage before left and right. There's more of a chance that you could get this than you think."

"Jaime," Dan sighed, "we both know that I can't afford to miss work as much as I'm going to need to for practice. And on top of that, I won't be able to pay for the tickets I'm going to need to get to London and back so many times. If it was here in Manchester, maybe I'd entertain the  idea, but I just can't. I'd be out of my flat in a month from not being able to afford rent once practice rolls around." 

Jaime groaned. 

"Dan-"

"No, Jaime, I'll sit this one out." 

She muttered something under her breath that Dan just didn't quite get before nodding a disgruntled 'fine' and pouting. After another piece and a half of pizza, Jaime knocked her shoulder into Dan's. 

"So, what's going on with you? Was today really bad?" 

"Steve was a royal dick." 

"Expected." 

"Mary almost had a go at him."   
" _ Mary? _ Little old lady Mary?  _ Mi Dio,  _ what did he do?" 

Dan brought his bandaged hand out from under the blankets, where it had been curled up over his stomach. Jaime nearly choked on the bite of pizza in her mouth when she saw it, and her eyes immediately darkened with anger.  

"He kind of hip-checked me while I was making her coffee, and I ended up burning myself." Dan said, definitely playing the situation down to avoid Jaime descending upon Steve like a grim reaper. As much as Dan might have loved to see that, it wouldn't have been worth it. 

"But don't worry it's fine! Phil wrapped up and everything." 

"Phil was there too now? And what the hell did he do, go out and buy bandages? We don't have these kind in the first-aid kit." She said, bringing Dan's hand over by his wrist to inspect the bandage. Her eyes roved over the rest of Dan's frame as well, looking for any other sign of injury, frowning. 

Dan blushed. 

"Ah, no, he had these at his flat." 

Jaime raised a brow. 

"You're telling me that he went all the way to his flat, grabbed some bandages, and came all the way back to the coffee shop just because you got a burn even though we had ones in the back?" 

"No," he said, squirming, "we went to his flat for lunch. After he nearly threatened to dump a coffee on Steve's head." 

"Why the  _ fuck- _ "

"We're dating." Dan blurted, eyes going wide as soon as the words left his mouth. He had meant to be more tactile with telling her,  _ damnit.  _ Jaime blinked at him in disbelief. "Surprise?" He added, unsure. 

"Tell me everything right now it's about  _ time  _ you two got together, jesus christ _. _ " 

So Dan ended up telling Jaime all about how Phil showed up at his flat, the texts, today, their talk about Dan's past, and how Phil had swooped in like a saint to take him away from Steve, breaking for Jaime to disappear for a moment, only to come pack with a gallon on ice cream and two spoons. 

"Oh my god you two were snogging on this couch." 

"Shut up!" 

"You can't deny it, Howell, you literally just told me!"

"That doesn't mean we have to  _ talk  _ about it!"

Jaime snickered and spooned another mountain of ice cream into her mouth. 

"He's going to be in our coffee shop at every hour of the day now that you finally said yes, isn't he? God, don't even answer that he's like a puppy, he  _ is. _ "

Dan's face was beet-red, and he suspected that the blush wouldn't go down for a while, or at least until Jaime let up on the teasing. 

"My boyfriend isn't a puppy. But yeah, he probably is going to be there a lot." Dan muttered through a mouth-full of ice cream. 

"A lot my ass he won't leave unless you do."

"Jaime, shut  _ up. _ "

"Oi, this is the first relationship you've been in in  _ years,  _ it's my right to tease you to death."

Dan stuck out his tongue at her. 

"Love you too, Danny." 

Jaime shifted on the couch, and continued to reach for the ice cream, but thankfully stopped her suggestive smiles and teasing in lieu of smugly eating dessert. 

They polished off an impressive amount of ice cream before Jaime pushed the container away, onto the table. 

"We've had way too much. I'm throwing in the towel for the both of us."

"Speak for yourself, loser." Dan said, but admittedly throwing his spoon into the container of ice cream and flopping back into the couch. "What's next on the agenda, then? Are we going to cut into sleeping already? It's only about ten." 

"No, you're not going to pass out on me, Danny, I'm not done with you yet."

Dan whined, but obediently sat up when Jaime swatted at his arm. 

Unlike the rest of the night prior, this time Jaime looked stern. She wasn't bubbling over with excitement and joy like she had been when she had arrived, and she wasn't oozing disbelief and I-told-you-he-liked-you-but-you-didn't-believe-me-dumbass like when Dan was busy talking about Phil. She was determined and slightly reserved, but also showing hints of worry. 

"I've been honestly meaning to talk to you about this for awhile, I just didn't really know how to bring it up, I guess? But I finally got my head out of my ass and realized that it doesn't matter if I'm vaguely unsure because this is about  _ you. _ "

Dan swallowed, suddenly nervous. His head immediately went to the worst-case he could think of. Was Jaime unhappy with their friendship? Changed her mind about her acceptance of Dan's sexuality? 

Something else? 

Her eyes seemed to be piercing his, keeping them from darting away. Dan wasn't sure if her gaze reassured him or heightened his anxiety. 

"I want you to see a therapist, Dan. No, don't say anything yet, this is non-negotiable. You've been depressed since I've known you, and while I'm sure that some of that had to do with repressing your ace-ness, nowhere near all of it is, and it's gotten worse since you were just that too-tall kid to stumble through my store doors looking for a job. Dan, there are times when you  _ can't get out of bed _ . And don't think I haven't noticed your increasing anxiety. Dan," Jaime said, grabbing Dan's hand, "I want you to be happy because you  _ deserve  _ to be. You don't deserve to suffer through that, and I don't want you to alone. I'll help you as much as you want me too, but I'm no professional, Dan. I can't help you how you need."

Dan felt tears prick at his eyes. 

He'd been depressed for years now, ever since he was fourteen, really. It only got worse with his sexuality and his girlfriend, but things really went down-hill when he had gotten kicked out. It had taken him awhile to pick himself up from that after he finally found a stable place to stay, but he had thought he'd been managing it. Sure, he had more depressive episodes, but he knew how to handle those, what more did Jaime want? 

"How do you know that? How do you know that you can't help?" Dan said, quietly. "Maybe it just takes time."

"Because I don't know how to help you other than support you through it. I can look through all of the forums on the internet—and believe me I  _ have _ —and still not be able to help you like you need. All I can do is keep you going, I can't give you the tools you need to climb out of this hole you've ended up in."

There were tears dripping down Dan's cheeks. Was he really that sick? That his own best friend didn't even know how to help? 

"One appointment, that's all that I'm asking for, Dan,  _ please,  _ I'll help you research the therapist and take you there and everything, I just need you to try. If not for you then for me." Jaime pleaded, wiping away Dan's tears with the sleeve of her jumper. 

Dan looked back up at Jaime from where his eyes had slid down. She looked like she was about to cry herself, her expression looking so  _ pained.  _

It's not that he liked feeling so numb. 

It's not that he liked having a hard time to get out of bed. 

It's not that he liked not having the energy to do the most basic things sometimes. 

It's not that he liked being depressed. 

It was just...all he knew. 

He just wasn't sure what there was besides it. A normal life? That wasn't for him. It had been too long since he had had one. 

"What if I can't get better? What if I'm just stuck like this?" 

"If you're stuck like this, I'm going to find whatever punk-ass god or goddess who claims ownership of this shit universe and make them  _ regret it _ , damnit." 

A laugh bubbled out of Dan's chest before he could stop it, and Jaime smiled at him. 

"Don't laugh, I mean it." 

That only made Dan laugh harder, wiping away his own tears now. There was still something hard in his chest, but he felt lighter. Softer. 

"Okay, I'll try, but only to save that 'punk-ass god' from  _ you,  _ you maniac."

Jaime snorted, but she pulled Dan back in for another hug, her smaller arms wrapping around Dan completely and making him feel warm inside. He hugged her back and whispered a small "thank you", not entirely sure that she heard it, but okay with it if she didn't. They didn't always need words to convey things between them, and Dan was sure that Jaime knew how much her care for him meant to him. Even after all of the tears and the drama. 

They pulled themselves together after that and dug back into the ice cream, forgetting their prior self-restraint completely. Dan beat Jaime several times over in Mario Kart after they had finally paid the remainder of the movie that had been on in the background some attention, and after his seventh win, Jaime declared that they'd better sleep before she strangled a giddy-at-winning Dan. He teased her about it all through the clean-up, and didn't let up until she threatened to make him sleep outside. 

"It's my flat! You can't kick me out!"

"Watch me, Howell. Now get your ass in bed." 

Dan stuck his tongue out at her in his usual fashion, but did as she asked, pulling back the duvet on his bed—which she was already in—and flopping down next to her. 

"Night, dork." 

"Night, nerd." 

Dan fell asleep easier than he had in awhile, warm and curled up with his best friend, the normal background noise of his thoughts settled for once. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After like 6 months I’m back! Sorry about the wait you guys, but I put out three PBB fics in that period, wrote two new chapters for this fic, and balanced my own crazy life. Thank you for your patience! Updates will resume regularly. Enjoy!

Dan stepped through the front doors into the lobby. It was small and had basic furniture that looked as if it had come from the same dull color scheme, but Dan didn't really mind. He wouldn't be here very long. 

A tired secretary looked up at him as he entered, but when Dan settled in one of the seats in front of the television, she looked back down at her paperwork, a frown still on her face. 

Dan looked up at the TV and smiled wide. It was on the same channel that the weather station aired, and on it Phil was grinning and relaying the temperatures for the day and how the sun for once would be shining for most of the afternoon. 

Dan sat and watched the whole time Phil was on, a goofy smile on his face. When the angle switched to the news anchors, Dan's attention drifted to his phone, where he scrolled through twitter for a little. Now that Phil wasn't on the live broadcast he'd be in a separate room, recording a few different takes of a handful of different weather broadcasts that the station could air later in the day, depending on which of their predictions were correct. And since Phil was here as an employee and not an intern today, as soon as he was done, they could leave. 

They'd been dating for a few weeks at this point, and with Dan's workaholic schedule and Phil's two jobs, most time between them had been lunch breaks and an impromptu sleepover, or a few hours together of kissing and movies and video games before reality once again rained on their parade. Today however, Dan was off due to the shop being closed so it could get some of its appliances replaced, and Phil had his whole day off as well minus his morning broadcast. They were planning on spending it together and to shop and wander around Manchester as it rapidly neared the holiday season. 

Dan thought that a day just for the two of them was  _ long _ overdue. 

A few people came and went while Dan was sitting there, and he eventually stopped looking up so hopefully since every time he only got a stranger returning his excitement with a look of bewilderment at Dan's gaze. And besides, had he gotten a little caught up in scrolling through the various threads? Maybe. Had he gotten comfortable in his seat and popped his earbuds in? Possibly. Did Phil ever give him a ball-park time as to when he would be done? No. So he really had no business materializing out of nowhere and hooking a finger under Dan's chin, tilting his head up and kissing him in greeting. Dan's legs just went jelly even though he wasn't standing, and his thoughts flatlined. 

"Uh," Dan said eloquently when Phil pulled back. Phil laughed and helped Dan up. 

"Hello to you too. I'm all done by the way—are you ready to get out of here? I distinctly remember planning a whole day together with my boyfriend."

Dan managed something between a breathy "yeah" and "of course" and let Phil grab his hand, leading him outside dumbly, still overwhelmed with how easily this cliche bastard could knock all of the breath out of his lungs. He simultaneously hoped that he would eventually get used to it—becoming a stuttering mess was highly inconvenient at times—and also never wanted that feeling of devotion to go away. 

The sun was surprisingly warm for early December, and the sky was clearer than Dan had seen it in an awfully long time. Topped with all of the Christmas decorations around and nestled into Phil's side, their hands threaded, Dan really couldn't imagine a better way of spending his day off. 

Their first stop was Starbucks—a Dan and Phil tradition. They'd gone to a Starbucks for their first "date" on one of Dan's lunch breaks, and ever since, they'd hit it a half a dozen times together in the several weeks of their relationship. 

Phil ordered while Dan snagged them a table in the corner. He returned however, with a horrendous amount of foam on his coffee and a simple protest of "it's flavored leave me alone." Phil then proceeded to take a huge sip, leaving a hefty foam mustache on his upper lip. Dan laughed hysterically and couldn't help but snap a picture of Phil's adorable pout, sending it to Jaime after saving it to his phone. He was surprised when his phone beeped almost right away. She was down in London today working on the play, and it was too early for her to be on her lunch break already. 

 

**> > From: my maraschino cherry**

_ look at you two and ur coffee dates ur  _

_ sickening _

_ also _

_ how much foam did he ask for that man  _

_ is living in a world w/o god _

 

**> > To: my maraschino cherry**

_ too much. the answer is too much _

 

"Is that Jaime? You two aren't conspiring against me again, are you?" 

Dan snorted and took a sip of his own coffee (with a normal amount of foam, thank you very much). 

"If you count conspiring as us dragging you for the sheer amount of foam on that coffee, then yes, absolutely."

"Hey! Unlike  _ you,  _ I refuse to be subjected to society's standards as to what is acceptable with coffee. Besides, what do you know? My coffee is  _ fantastic _ ." 

"Some lines just shouldn't be crossed, mate, and a gallon of foam is one of them. And you're forgetting—I literally  _ make _ coffee for a living. I think I have the right to judge." Dan said, rolling his eyes in the fondest way possible. Phil grumbled as if he was annoyed, but Dan could tell that he didn't really mean it. 

Dan leaned back against the chair and watched Phil as he used the front camera on his phone to make sure he wiped away all of the foam from the top of his lip. Was that creepy? Maybe. But Dan just couldn't keep his eyes off of Phil, as cliche as it was. Phil was just  _ Phil— _ Dan couldn't ignore him if he tried. 

"What, did I miss some of it?" Phil asked, already pulling his phone back out of his pocket. Dan grabbed his hand to stop the movement. 

"No, you spork, you didn't." Dan said softly. 

Phil's face brightened and a sly smile spread across his face. "So," he drawled, "whatcha looking at then?" 

Dan let his thumb flitter over the tops of Phil's knuckles before answering. 

"A dork." 

_ "Hey!" _

Dan cackled as Phil crossed his arms and pouted. He started whining about how Dan was being a "terrible boyfriend" and "first the foam now this," and he was being so ridiculous that Dan only laughed harder. Phil just kept going though, and Dan tried to shush him in between giggles, but to no avail. 

_ What an absolute fucking nerd,  _ Dan thought as he gave up trying to stop Phil with words and instead pulled him forward into a kiss. Dan was still trying to control his laughter so he wasn't even really kissing properly and pretty much just smiling against Phil's mouth, but it worked perfectly. Phil shut up instantly and kissed back. His arm snaked around Dan's waist loosely, but it still sent a tingle up Dan's spine anyways. 

Dan pulled back a little, his cheeks aching from laughing. "Hey."

"No no, come back here." Phil dragged Dan right back to his side, and this time the kiss was a proper one. When Phil let go of him Dan knew his cheeks were dusted pink, and in his own opinion the blush probably matched the warm feeling in his chest. 

Phil hummed, smiling softly down at Dan. "Cute." 

Dan rolled his eyes, but they both knew that didn't mean anything. 

After they finished their coffees, they wandered out into the city. Earlier in the week they had planned out all of the stores they had wanted to visit, but things ended up taking longer than expected because they couldn't stop themselves from walking into every building that had something that caught their eye. With all of the extra stops, the shopping trip had to be split in half by lunch. Dan didn't mind though. A nice lunch in a little corner cafe with Phil was a pleasant and welcomed surprise. 

Dan found his Christmas present for Jaime, and nearly bought one for Phil as well. The only thing that stopped Dan from buying the galaxy jumper was the fact that it was about twice as much as Dan's already small and strained budget. 

It was nearing the evening when they stepped through the threshold of Phil's apartment. The day had been incredibly fun, and Dan didn't even mind that he was tired from all of the walking that they had done, or that the tip of his nose was near froze from the cold air. 

Dan dropped the bags in his hands down onto the floor next to Phil's. He reached back up for the zipper on his coat, but Phil's hands batted it out of the way. Surprised, Dan raised an eyebrow at Phil, but it went unaddressed by the older man. Phil slipped the coat from Dan's shoulders and hung it up. 

"Why don't you go pick out a movie, Dan? I'm in a bit of a mood for popcorn and snuggling under a blanket." 

He retreated back to the lounge, the faint blush on his cheeks from Phil taking his coat off for him dissipating. It had been domestic and Dan enjoyed being taken care of, shoot him. 

Dan settled on a bit of a classic and popped it into the DVD player. Behind him he could hear Phil starting the microwave, and even though they had ate not that long ago, Dan's stomach grumbled at the smell of the butter. Dan pulled one of the many blankets Phil had off of the back of the couch and wrapped it around him. He left half of it off to the side for Phil. 

"You can start it! I'll be right in." 

The opening credits of  _ The Shawshank Redemption  _ had finished playing by the time Phil surfaced, but it was with a large bowl of popcorn and accompanying sweets, which made up for lost cuddle time in Dan's mind. 

A few moments later Phil was settled under the blanket, pressed next to Dan. The snacks were in a pile on their laps, and they frequently snuck a hand out from under the blanket to munch on them. 

The movie was one of Dan's favorites, and he decided that watching it with Phil's body curled around his, tucked away in their little corner of the world, made it even better. 

Phil had also never seen the movie before, and Dan had brought his own copy of it over ages ago with the intention of watching it. Unfortunately, they had never gotten the chance to until now, but it was hardly an issue. Dan enjoyed Phil's gasps of surprise, and his frantic panic towards the end of the movie when things were hitting the climax. When the screen faded to the end credits, Phil's jaw was dropped, shock on his face. 

"I'll take it you enjoyed it?" Dan asked, a smiling. Phil stared at the television for another moment before snapping to attention. 

"Like it? Dan, that was one of the  _ coolest  _ movies I've ever seen. And it's based off of a book, you said? God, I need to read it, oh my gosh." Phil continued rambling about his favorite parts, and he talked about his thought process through the movie. "I swear I thought Andy was guilty! But then he got some proof that he wasn't, and they  _ shot  _ the guy!" 

"Yep. Really makes you think, huh?" 

Phil laughed. 

"Yeah, it does." 

Dan smiled, happy that Phil had enjoyed something that Dan loved. He pecked Phil's lips with his own before mustering the willpower to scoot out of their little blanket cocoon. 

"Can you take it out of the DVD player? I'll take care of our scraps." 

Phil was still smiling softly at him, and the look was making Dan's insides feel all warm and gooey. Not that long ago that would have terrified him, but now it just made Dan's grin go wider. 

He quickly washed the bowl to get the butter off of the sides and put it back in Phil's cabinet. Before he left he shut the rest of Phil's cabinet doors, rolling his eyes. Phil could look at a bunch of nonsense numbers and measurements and predict the weather, but the man couldn't bother himself to close a cabinet door. 

Dan walked back into the lounge, ready to tease Phil about it, but stopped when he found him standing next to the couch, reading something on his phone. His eyebrows were crinkled and the corners of his mouth were turned down in something between a frown and a grimace. The expression caused the joke on Dan's lips to wither, and for a moment Dan just stood there, watching Phil. He didn't seem to know that Dan was back in the room. 

"Is everything alright?" 

Phil jumped at Dan's voice shattering the silence, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. The small smile plastered on Phil's face was fake, and Dan could tell that Phil was trying to figure out what to say. 

"Yeah, it's just an email from work." 

"Tesco emailed you?" 

"No, the weatherstation." 

"Oh." Dan didn't know if he should keep pushing, but when he thought about the frown on Phil's face just a little bit ago and how his shoulders were curled in anxiety, Dan's resolution hardened. He knew first hand what something negative could do if it was allowed to fester, and he didn't want that to happen to Phil. "Was it something bad?" 

"No, not really." Phil said, his fingers sliding into his pockets. Dan couldn't help but frown at that. Phil stuck his hands in his pockets when he was uncomfortable. Was Dan making him feel like that? "My schedule just got changed up a bit. I'm going to have to ring Tesco to have them adjust my shifts so none of them overlap."

Dan nodded, but there was no doubt in his mind that Phil wasn't telling the truth. Another glance at Phil's hands in his pockets held back Dan's tongue, however. He didn't want to make Phil uncomfortable or anxious. 

Dan decided to drop the subject, but he didn't let his suspicions fall. 

"Did you want to call them now? I can step back into the kitchen if you want?" 

"No!" Phil said, his arms flinching like he wanted to move them, but decided not to at the last minute. "It's fine, I promise. I'll call them in the morning—I don't think anybody would pick up, anyways. Come on, it's my turn to pick a movie." 

Phil gave Dan one last strained smile before turning all of his attention to the shelf of movies he owned. Dan was still frowning, worried about what had really been on Phil's phone, and even more worried about Phil, but he didn't say anything. Dan didn't think that Phil really looked at the selection and more-or-less just popped a random disc into the DVD player. After pressing play, Phil caught Dan's wrists and pulled him to the sofa. They settled back under the blanket, but this time Phil was holding Dan against his chest, his arms wrapped around Dan to keep him close. He pressed a soft kiss to Dan's temple. 

"Relax, everything's fine, I promise."

It didn't do much to ease Dan's thoughts, but he did relax his body, as well as tuck his worried thoughts away to deal with later. For now, he just wanted to enjoy this time with Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what was Phil really reading? fear not, all will be revealed soon
> 
> comments and kudos are welcome, thank you so much for reading! :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! This chapter deals with heavy themes of mental health, aphobia, and about Dan's past. If you are uncomfortable with anything or think you will be and don't want to read it then that's fine! You can always message me on tumblr (@phan-of-the-pen) or drop a comment and I'll tell you anything you need to know :)
> 
> Enjoy you guys! I promise the next chapter will be lighter lmao

"Dan, you're not even listening." 

Dan snapped back to reality, his gaze focusing back on Katie sitting across from him. She was frowning, her eyebrows pinched and arms crossed. She still looked pretty even when she was pissed as hell, and Dan found that completely unfair. 

"I am, I'm sorry I'm just really tired. I haven't been sleeping well." It was the truth, but Dan also hoped that it was enough to derail their conversation. 

Katie rolled her eyes. "Dan, you're not getting out of this just because you're tired. I'm sorry to hear that you've been missing sleep, but we seriously need to talk." 

"Okay," Dan said, mentally bracing himself for what he knew was about to happen, "go ahead. You have all of my attention." 

"Thank you," Katie responded, her posture relaxing a little. "The bottom line is that I don't think this is working out anymore." 

Oh.

Oh... _ fuck.  _

Dan's mouth fell open and his heart lurched in his chest. He had thought that this "talk" they were going to have would have been about Dan's mental health or their sex life, but he'd never even imagined it would be about  _ this.  _

_ Is she breaking up with me?  _

"What? _Why?_ " Dan breathed, helplessly searching Katie's eyes for proof that a breakup hadn't been what she meant. They'd been dating for so long...how could she look so unaffected? 

"Danny, you know I love you. But I can't help but feel like you don't love me."

"Katie that's  _ insane,  _ of course I love you! How could you ever think that?" Dan asked. He reached forward to lace his fingers with his girlfriend's hand. It was something he did all the time when she got anxious to help calm her down. But instead of smiling gratefully at him she only scowled. 

"Insane? Really Dan? You've been pulling away from me for months, you've been making obvious excuses to get out of sex, hell, you've barely even glanced at me in weeks!" Katie slipped her hand from Dan's, and somehow that action hurt more than her accusatory tone. "Am I even your girlfriend anymore?"

Dan winced, knowing that what she was saying was true. 

"You're right, and you deserve better, I know, but-"

"No, no buts. I've had enough of your bullshit, Dan. What's going on with you?"   
Dan swallowed thickly. He had the answer that she was looking for, but that didn't mean that he wanted to tell her. The information felt so new and fragile, he was sure that the faintest pressure would cause it and himself to shatter. 

But….

This was Katie, his girlfriend of over a year and a half, his best friend. She's supported him through his depression and anxiety, why does this have to be different? 

Katie kept her eyes on him, waiting. His resolution solidified and he took a deep breath, knowing that she deserved to know. 

Their eyes met, and Dan traced her green ones with his own. This was Katie. This was Katie.  _ This was Katie.  _

"You're right. I've been treating you unfairly, and it's been because I've been struggling with something, but regardless that's not an excuse. Anyways…" Dan trailed off, digging his fingernails into his palm hard enough to surely leave little crescent moons behind. 

The silence stretched, and Katie didn't make a move to fill it. 

"I'm…"

Dan felt sweat prickle at the back of his neck and the rosey patch on his cheek bloom. 

"I'm asexual."

 

* * *

 

"Dan, oh my god, are you alright? David, come here!" Dan's mum cried when Dan stepped through the door. He had tried to be quiet, but their front door was ridiculously creaky and Dan's hiccuping sobs were much too loud to muffle. His mum had him in an embrace before he could do anything about it, but he was pulling out of it before she could even properly settle her arms around him. 

The hurt and worried look on his mum's face tore Dan apart, but he needed to self destruct in peace. Dan's father, who had come running at his wife's cry, rested a hand on her shoulder. 

"Katie an-and I a-are done." Dan gasped between sobs before turning to the steps and running up them. He didn't miss his mum's gasp of shock. 

_ "Get out of my fucking house Daniel! I never want to see your fucking face again!" _

They were definitely done.

 

* * *

Hands grabbed at Dan's body, shoving him against the gym lockers and holding him there. Faces snarled at him as Dan thrashed against their grips. 

"How about this, Howell?" Liam asked, pressing his naked chest up against Dan's. He clasped his hands onto Dan's hips and rolled both of their torsos together. "Katie told us how much you hated sex with her. Do you like men instead?" Liam backed Dan impossibly closer to the lockers, a sadistic grin on his face as he watched Dan panic and fight helplessly against all of the hands holding him in place. He thrust their hips together once more and leaned in close, bringing his mouth right up against Dan's ear.    
"Do you feel sick yet, Howell?"

Liam released him and back away laughing. Instantly the hands collectively released a hyperventilating Dan. Liam pulled his shirt back over his head and with his gang of cronies following him, moved to leave. 

"Don't be late for gym, Howell!" he mocked as he exited. Someone shoved Dan to the floor of the locker room as they left. 

As soon as it began, it had ended. 

Dan stayed on the cold floor, shaking from a panic attack. He peeled himself up from the tiles just in time to rush to the bathroom before throwing up what little he had had for breakfast this morning. 

There he stayed, crying against the bathroom stall. 

 

* * *

 

"David, there's no need to rush things."

"I'm not rushing anything. It's been months since he and Katie have broken up, and I was just wondering if he had met someone else yet, that's all. It was an innocent question." 

Dan picked at his food, happy to let his mum talk for him. She rolled her eyes and huffed before taking her and her husband's plates to the kitchen to clean them. 

Dan stayed, watching the sunset cast oranges, reds, blues, and eventually nothing onto the tablecloth. 

* * *

 

 

"Samantha, would you stay  _ out  _ of this? This is a conversation between a father and his son." Dan's father bit back. Dan shrunk back down further in the shadows. 

"There's no need for it! He'll find someone when he finds someone, and you getting on his case won't do anything for anyone!" Dan's mum retorted. 

"He hasn't been the same since Katie broke up with him. It's getting ridiculous! He needs to find himself another girl to forget about her."    
"David, I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason as to why Dan isn't dating anyone right now, but you need to-"

"Why  _ aren't  _ you dating anyone? You still haven't answered that question for me, Daniel." Dan's father said, turning his attention back to him. Dan swallowed, briefly looking at his mum for help, but feeling his heart sink when she only shook her head at her husband. 

"Well?" Dan's father prompted, his voice gaining a hard edge. It made Dan jump, eyes going a little bit more wide. 

Dan weighed his options as fast as he could. He's been giving his father bullshit excuses for months, and they both knew it. If Dan lied it would be easy to tell. Besides, he was out of excuses and his secret was wearing him down to the bone. 

His heart in his throat, Dan summarized why his long-term girlfriend had broken up with him, and how he didn't experience sexual attraction as quickly as he could.

And watched as his life was obliterated. 

 

* * *

 

Dan pulled the hood down lower over his face in a horrifically feeble attempt at keeping the stinging rain out of his eyes. He grit his chattering teeth against the wind and hugged his arms tighter around his soaked body. 

His ears were still ringing with the words of his parents even though it had been a week since he had last seen them, and he doubted that he would be rid of them for a while still. 

Dan ducked under an overhang to catch his breath against the wind, his whole body shaking from the cold. He sneezed violently and cursed; he couldn't get sick now of all times. 

The wind blew a monstrous sheet of rain nearly sideways, hitting Dan even with his cover. Dan cursed himself once again for being so stupid and telling his parents for one, but for also being the way he was. 

If he wasn't so fucked and  _ wrong  _ he'd be watching the rain from his warm bedroom window right now. 

Dan pressed his fingernails harshly into his palms to focus himself and stepped back out into the rain. He needed to find a place to stay, a job, and needed to find somewhere to cry. 

* * *

 

 

"Can I please get the cheapest sandwich money can buy?" Dan asked the barista, eyeing the more expensive ones in the case but knowing that he couldn't afford them even if his stomach felt hollowed out. 

The barista sized him up and nodded before disappearing to surely find Dan the most disappointing meal he'd ever have. 

Dan leaned against the counter and tried to rub away a slowly forming migraine even though he knew that it would be no use. He really shouldn't have been out in the storm a few nights ago, but he didn't really have that many choices being homeless and disowned. 

The barista returned with one of the sandwiches Dan had been looking at earlier as well as a bag of crisps and a bottle of water. She didn't even try to ring him up—only flicked her dyed-red hair and pushed the food forward for Dan to take. Dan was already starting to protest, but she cut him off. 

"Look, don't even worry about paying for it. This is on the house, alright? You look pretty down on your luck and I know what that's like, so let me help you out. You can stay here as long as you like, and the booth all the way in the corner is easily the comfiest if you want to camp out until closing." She smiled at him, and it was the first genuine smile Dan had seen in a while. He felt tears prick at his eyes and threaten to spill over, and a baseball sized lump settle in his throat, but he got a hold of himself just in time. He gave the barista—her name tag read Jaime—the most thankful expression he could muster and nodded before getting out of the way of other customers. 

Dan relished every bite of his sandwich and nearly cried over the simple comfort of a bag of crisps. 

He followed her advice and staked his claim on the booth in the corner. She hadn't been lying when she had said it was comfortable, and after tucking his few valuables away on his person, he laid down and took a much needed nap. 

The plan had been for a half an hour of rest to recharge, but when Dan woke back up the sun was low in the sky, and it was just beginning to get dark. Apparently he had needed sleep more than he thought. 

Dan checked his belongings and smiled in relief when he found none of them missing. 

About half an hour later, he slid out of the booth to leave. He'd need to find a place to hole up for the night, and it would be much easier with the sun still out. 

Jaime—the barista—stopped him however. Dan instinctively tensed at her gentle hand on his arm and worried that she had changed his mind on giving him that sandwich, but she only smiled and pressed a paper and pen to his hand. 

"It's a job application. You can think on it if you want, and don't worry about filling out stuff like a billing address or phone if you don't have one—I'll take care of them. And if you don't want a job, that's okay. You can always come back here as long as you want." 

Jaime gave his arm a squeeze and let go of him so she could return to the counter where there were a few people waiting for their coffees. 

Dan couldn't even say thank you with how tight with emotion his throat was. 

Later that night, under the shelter of a alley overhang, Dan filled out the application as thoroughly as he could in the light of the moon. When he was done he tucked it safely in his backpack to return to Jaime. He drew his sweatshirt tighter around his body and felt himself relax for the first time since he had been kicked out. 

He didn't have a place to stay or a family to love, but he was alive, he had a job, and hopefully a friend. 

Dan couldn't help the grin that spread over his face. 

 

* * *

 

 

Dan watched as Gina studied him. 

He hadn't gone into extreme detail over his past—especially the finer parts the hurt the most—but he had taken the whole hour to explain a vague outline of everything that had happened to him in the past few years. It was good to let his walls against the past slip, even just a little. 

It was also the most he had talked about his past to anyone, including Phil, but he hoped that was a good thing. Gina was his therapist, however, so he supposed that it wasn't abnormal that she knew more about his past than his boyfriend. 

"Dan, first I want to thank you for explaining your story to me. This session was much different than our last," she said with a smile. Dan sheepishly averted his eyes. This was his second therapy appointment, and his first hadn't gone over too well. He had divulged few details and was overly closed off and snappish for the whole hour he had with this woman. 

"I think that we have a lot of work to do to turn around those cynical, negative thoughts of yours, but there's no doubt in my mind that you can do it." Her face softened. "I'm proud of you for telling me so much on only your second appointment. I'm sure you still have plenty of secrets, but that's alright. You'll get better, Dan. I promise." 

Gina left him with a few tips on how to spot his negative thoughts, and strict instructions to start working on stopping them. He thanked her and left, pushing open the door and stepping outside soon enough. 

It was a week until Christmas, and even though that meant that it was cold enough for the air to sting his lungs, he took a deep breath and started for his flat.

A week ago when he had gotten home after his first appointment and called Phil to complain how he didn't need this, Phil had talked him down from the rash decision of cancelling the rest of his appointments. 

Dan had ended up thinking long and hard about why he was so opposed to therapy for himself, and he was certain that it was because he was still in denial that he needed help. 

The thing was, he did. He  _ needed _ help. He wanted to be happy and enjoy life, and more importantly, to move on. But the first step was to take away the power his parents and ex-girlfriend still unknowingly had over him. The only problem was that it was a bigger step than he could take on his own, and it's impossibility made the action daunting. 

Dan was now trying to change that, however. 

He needed to face his insecurities about himself and his sexuality, and understand that they were wrong and that he deserved better from himself. He needed to accept that he struggled with things like depression, and make changes to combat his mental illness. 

It was a big first step, but that's what Gina was here for. She was helping him to learn how to walk. 

Dan just couldn't wait until he knew how to run.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back at it and on time once again! :D
> 
> So I'm expecting this to get no longer than 25 chapters. I have a clear outline of how I want to end it and what I want to do with this story plot-wise. Hopefully you'll stick around! 
> 
> (also all of you guys' comments were so nice I love all of you :( )
> 
> Enjoy!!!

"You really talked for an hour? Wow," Jaime said. Dan watched as she immediately frowned. "Okay hang on, that sounded kind of sarcastic and I didn't mean it like that. I'm just surprised because you don't like to talk about your past, plus your first appointment didn't exactly go well. I'm really proud of you, Danny."

Dan groaned into his pillow at the nickname even though at this point, he'd let Jaime call him whatever she wanted. He just wanted to talk with her—it had been so _lonely_ knowing she was in London.

"Congrats, you just ruined it." he mumbled.

When he pulled his face back up from his pillow Jaime was still smirking at him through the screen of his phone. It was late, but Jaime had just gotten back from a few days in London for the play and they were video calling to catch up with each other.

The live feed of Jaime's bedroom shifted and wobbled as she found a more comfortable position on the bed. When she settled her face was serious again.

"How do you feel about this though? Do you think that therapy is something that is right for you?"

Dan took a moment to think before answering.

"I want to see where it goes more than anything. I like Gina and I feel really comfortable with her which is good, but I think I just need to wait right now? Like, as much as I may want them, I _know_ that there won't be instant results, and I know I'm probably going to keep struggling. After a little bit of work and time, if I haven't gotten anywhere then I might change my mind, but right now I'm ready to see this through."

"Wow Dan," Jaime said softy, a gentle smile on her face, "you've really grown up."

Dan could feel his rosey patch flare up, and he chuckled awkwardly. He didn't really know how to take that.

"I think we both know I have the maturity of a seven-year old, Jaime."

"No, Dan, not anymore." Jaime snorted and rolled her eyes, but her expression went right back to its softness of before. "You've really changed from that kid who turned up at my coffee shop looking like a drowned rat. You're you now."

Dan hummed to show he was listening, but at the same time he wasn't. He had absolutely no idea what the hell Jaime was getting at, especially whatever " _you're you now"_ bloody meant. Who was he before? Was it a good change?

Why couldn't he see it too?

"How's the play coming?" Dan asked instead of the million other questions smashing around his skull. It was late and maybe deep talks weren't the best when they were both exhausted.

Jaime caught him up on all of the happenings of the play, and talked about the cute stagehand for a half an hour alone. She showed Dan a few promo posters that had her in them with joy all over her face.

Dan let the gentle, tired voice of his best friend slowly relax his body and mind as he listened. He felt the exhaustion of the day slowly creep over his limbs until he knew that it wouldn't be much longer until he either fell asleep on Jaime or they hung up.

"It feels like things are finally going good, you know?"

Dan smiled, his eyelids heavy and his head feeling a bit like mush but his heart spilling over with sleepy love and pride for this wonderful mess of a human being that was Jaime. God, did he _miss_ her over these past few days.

"Yeah, I know."

 

* * *

 

 "I'm so glad you could grace us with your presence." Dan called as Jaime tumbled through the door of the coffee shop the next morning looking tired but happy. She flipped him off but her smile didn't falter for a moment, so Dan knew perfectly well she wasn't that much of a grouch this morning.

"I'm glad to see that you're still a little shit."

"When you get famous I'm gonna find the nearest gossip site and tell them all about how you actually suck as a person." Dan retorted.

Jaime hummed as she tied her apron on and wrestled the coffee grounds out of Dan's hands.

"Give them here, I've left this place in your barbaric hands long enough."

"Love you too."

_"A fanabla"_

Dan wiped down the tables and filled the self-serve bar while Jaime started brewing the coffee. He helped her set the register, and they shared a vanilla latte while they browsed the music selection. By the time they were ready to open the windows were already fogged with condensation and Dan's nose was desensitized to the smell of fresh coffee.

Mary was in as usual, but this time when she saw Jaime she got terribly excited. Dan happily covered the first few people to wander through their small coffee shop while Jaime had most of her attention taken up by Mary who demanded to know everything that had happened in London. It was cute to see Jaime gushing about the past few days with an equally enthusiastic Mary. Plus he knew how much they had missed each other.    
"Daniel, how have you been? Have you told Jaime here to take that girl of her's out yet?" Mary asked, wrapping her much smaller hands around one of Dan's huge ones. Dan smiled.

"I told her last night on the phone to take her on a date the next time she was in London, but knowing Jaime it'll be three years until that happens." Mary cackled at Dan's remark and shot Jaime a look. "And I'm doing just fine. My day off was nice. I went back to therapy and then spent the rest of the day with Phil until he had to go to work."

"Speaking of Phil, how's he doing? I haven't seen him in a while. Well, I've seen him on the weather, haven't I?" Mary laughed.

"He's doing alright. His work at the weather station has picked up a bit, so hopefully he'll get a promotion soon. If he becomes a full-time employee then he can quit his job at Tesco."

"If they keep him as an intern any longer I'll certainly have to have a word with them."

Dan and Jaime both laughed, and after a moment of keeping her stern expression, Mary smiled gently.

"Well, I'm afraid I have to get going you two, I have a doctor's appointment to get to."

"I thought you went to the doctor's a few weeks ago?" Jaime said, frowning. Dan felt the corners of his mouth drop down now that Jaime mentioned the oddity. She was right—Mary had _just_ been, was she okay?

"Oh, that's what happens when you get old, love, your whole body falls apart and all of your bills are medical ones." She patted Jaime's cheek and said goodbye to them one last time before turning on her heel and disappearing out the door.

By the time Mary left the morning rush started to trickle in, and Dan and Jaime took turns taking the orders. It was efficient and even kept the line short.

Dan was making a espresso for a stressed uni student when Jaime sided up next to him. She gently bumped her hip against his leg as a silent _watch out I'm next to you_ as she reached for a new container of cream.

"That was weird."

"Hmm?"

"Mary. Was it just me? Or did you think the doctor's thing was suspicious too?" Jaime asked, following Dan as he brought the espresso back to the counter. Jaime started to mix the coffee for her customer as Dan ran up his customer.

"Do you think she's lying?" Dan asked as he gathered the necessary change. Jaime stopped for a count of five, her mouth in a tight line, eyebrows drawn together in thought. She mumbled something Italian under her breath before shaking her head and resuming what she was doing.   
"No, but it still seemed off to me."

Jaime handed her coffee off to her customer and collected the money as Dan took the order of the next person in line.

"Maybe I'm just overthinking it. Projecting and all," Jaime continued, vaguely waving her hand to animate _"and all"._

"I don't know, Jaime, it didn't seem like the whole story, but I guess she was right with visiting the doctor more. I know my gran was always over at her doctor's for her bad kidneys. Maybe it really is just an old person thing?"

Jaime's face was set in that puzzled look once again.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Hey, Mary's fine. You know just as well as I do that she would tell us if something major was up. We're pretty much her grandkids."

Jaime nodded, a watery smile pulling itself onto her face. "You're right, there's no reason to worry, and I'm sure she's fine. I'm just being weird because she's, you know, like my mum and my nonna all in one."

Dan squeezed her hand with his spare one as he tried to fill his next order. Jaime was just as disowned as Dan himself was, but she still longed for that special relationship a kid had with their parents. Because of that, she had latched on to Mary in more of a maternal sense than Dan had. Dan on the other hand just wanted to be loved, and between Jaime, Phil, and Mary, he was content.

The rest of the morning rush lasted mostly in silence which was fine for Dan. As time passed Jaime bloomed further and further back into herself, and by the end of the hour he could barely even tell that she had been upset in the first place.

Now that customers were just a trickle, they were able to relax more, which was what Dan had been looking towards all day. Catching up with Jaime in a video call was good, but damnit he had _missed_ her and in person conversations were always better without the distance and pixels creating a barrier between them.

Dan wrapped his arms around Jaime and pulled her in close, resting his head on top of hers. He smiled stupidly when she immediately hugged him back just as hard.

"I really hate how far away London is."

"Aww, did you miss me?" Jaime asked, even though they had already gone through this last night. Dan didn't bother quipping back something witty.

"Yeah, I did."

One of Jaime's hands was slowly rubbing the small of his back, and Dan had forgotten how soothing the motion was.

"I missed you a lot too. It felt weird not being able to walk a few blocks to annoy you whenever I wanted. And I mean, it was _only_ for a week, but that's crazy for us."

Dan laughed.

"It really is. That was the longest we've been apart since we met, wasn't it?"

"Oh yeah, by like, five days for sure."

Their hug slowly and naturally dissolved, and when they were finally apart Dan was smiling just because everything felt right.

 

* * *

 

Dan let Jaime have the first lunch break, but like normal she didn't even bother to leave the counter. She perched herself on one of the stools and spread her lunch on the extra counter that was only used when there were massive lines.

They continued to chat, but when Jaime's phone _ding!_ ed and she looked at it immediately, Dan's interest piqued. When a grin broke across her face after reading whatever notification she received his curiosity only grew.

"Is that that hot stagehand you told Mary and I all about?" Dan teased, resting his head on his hand. Jaime rolled her eyes, but Dan didn't miss the dusting of pink embarrassment that rose to her cheeks.

"No, it's Amazon telling me that your Christmas present is here."

"What is it? It's not that hideous jumper you sent me the link to is it? I mean Jaime even you said it was horrid."

"As much as that would be an amazing gag gift, it's not what I ended up choosing."

"Thank _god_."

Jaime tucked her phone back into her pocket.

"Speaking of Christmas, if you leave me to spend the whole thing with Phil I hope you know I'm going to kick you in the dick at _best."_

Dan involuntary cringed.

"Uh, yeah no I don't want any parts of that. But no, I was thinking that we could do something with the three of us? We can watch bad Christmas movies and make a gingerbread house and stuff if you want. I can even have it at my flat so you don't have to worry about having Phil at yours if you don't want."

"That would be really fun, I've been looking for more ways to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend."

"Jaime!"

" _Fine,_ I'll control myself for the most part. But seriously, I'd like a Christmas with the three of us. I need to get to know my future brother-in-law better, and I already bought him a present so seeing him on Christmas would only be convenient."

Dan rolled his eyes, but judging from the large smile on Jaime's face her apathetic words weren't worth anything (like usual).

A trio wandered through the front doors, momentarily stealing away Dan's attention from Jaime. It was fine though—he was smiling all through making their coffees, thinking about how excited he was to spend Christmas with his two favorite people.

 _Jaime was right,_ Dan thought, _things really are looking up._  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up with Mary? What about Phil's phone from earlier? What's going on? 
> 
> All will be revealed (mwahaha)
> 
> I know this chapter wasn't as deep and emotionally charged as the last one, but I felt like we all needed a break lmao. Plus, we've been deprived of Dan and Jaime being awesome bffs!! 
> 
> Next chapter is going to be a pile of fluff, thanks for reading, y'all are babes <3


	18. Chapter 18

"So," Jaime drawled, slathering icing onto the roof of the gingerbread house, "what's your deal with Phil?" 

Dan looked up from where he was using sprinkles to carefully decorate his side of the house. He frowned. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Oh Daniel," Jaime sighed melodramatically, "you do realize that I have eyes, right? There's been something off about you two ever since I got back a few days ago. At first, I was just wondering if it was like an off day or whatever, but he's stopped in the coffee shop every day and the story is still the same.  _ And,  _ the cherry on top is that from what I can tell, it's all you. So, spill,  _ amore. _ " 

Dan smiled a bit at the pet name, but as he tried to grasp for the right words it melted away into a puzzled frown. He put down the tube of icing. 

"I don't even really know? It's incredibly stupid, and I feel like a bloody idiot for pulling away at all." 

"Oi, no more putting yourself down, remember? You can feel however you like without it being stupid." 

"Are you my therapist now too?" 

Jaime threw a gumdrop at Dan, and it whacked him in the nose. 

"Shut up and be nice to yourself. While you're at it tell me whatever the hell is going on between you two." 

Dan rolled his eyes even though the sentiment touched him. 

"Yes mum." He picked the sprinkles back up, deciding that keeping his hands busy would be beneficial. 

"It wasn't even that long ago, but it was that day when I texted you about how much foam Phil had in his coffee, you remember?" 

" _ Mi Dio,  _ how could I forget? It was the worst thing I've ever seen with my own two eyes." 

"Yeah," Dan laughed, "but later after the day was over we ended up at his apartment. We watched a movie and everything was great! But I took care of the leftover snacks at the end of it, and when I came back to the lounge he was reading something on his phone. The strange part was that he looked...distressed? Kind of angry even? Like, whatever he was looking at obviously upset him. I asked him about it, and he gave me this fake smile and insisted that everything was fine." 

Jaime frowned. 

"Did he ever say what it was? Maybe not then, but later or something?" 

"No, he said that his schedule just got changed around a little and that it conflicted with a shift at Tesco's or whatever, but he never said anything else." 

"Have you talked to him about it since?" 

Dan groaned and gave up on trying to pretend that he was still decorating. He flopped back in his chair. 

"No. When it happened I pushed it a little because I couldn't help but think about the fact that you aren't supposed to let bad feelings fester. But I noticed how uncomfortable and anxious he looked, and I dropped it, thinking that all of my questions were getting to him. I haven't had the courage to talk to him about it since." 

"Don't you think that you should? I mean if it's bothering you like this then I think it's something that you two should talk about." 

"I know, but I'm scared that I'll push him away if I keep pestering him about it." 

Jaime squeezed a line of icing onto her finger and ate it, frowning. 

"What do you think was really on his phone then?" 

Dan hesitated. 

"I...don't know. We're normally so honest with each other, and something like this hasn't happened to us before. Him cheating on me because I'm ace was kind of my gut reaction when I sat and  _ actually  _ thought about it, but I  _ know  _ he'd never do that. It's just my anxieties and insecurities surfacing, you know? But, that's besides the point. I just can't think of anything that he would hide from me like that. It just worries me." 

"The possibility of him cheating is what's worrying you?" 

"No, no not that. I'm worried that he doesn't trust me enough with whatever is bothering him. He's my boyfriend, and I want to be there for him and support him however I can, but I can't really do that if I get shut out. And if he's not talking about this, I can't help but think about there possibly being other stuff that he deals with on his own. I just...I want to be there for him. I want him to let me help him." 

Jaime nodded, popping another scoop of icing into her mouth. 

"I see where you're coming from. You want to be there for him, and I'm really glad that you feel like that. I don't think that he should have lied to you like that, and I think the fact that he so obviously did it is kind of shitty. However, you can't expect him to tell you  _ everything.  _ I know that sometimes opening up to people is hard, and besides that we all need at least a little bit of privacy, even from our significant others." 

"No, I know that, and I totally respect that." 

"I know you do," Jaime said, "that's not really my point. The normal things that people in relationships keep from each other are small or whatever. What's different is that this is upsetting you both, so regardless I think you two should be talking about it. Right now, if Phil ever wanted to tell you or not doesn't matter." 

"So you think I should confront him about it?"    
"I think you should ask him about it. Tell him that it's been on your mind, and that you know that he wasn't telling the whole truth. Don't forget to mention that you don't want to be one of those controlling partners and that you respect his space and privacy, but that this is messing you up inside. Tell him all of the stuff you told me about wanting to be there for him, and let him know the concerns that you have." 

Dan nodded, knowing that his best friend was once again right. 

"When do you think I should do it?" 

"It's already pretty late today, and tomorrow is Christmas, so I would wait a few days if I were you." 

Dan dragged his fingers through the sprinkles scattered all over the table absentmindedly as he digested all of the advice that Jaime had given him. 

"Hey," Jaime said, her voice soft. Her tone made Dan look up. "I'm sure it's nothing life changing. It's the holidays and right now it's a time to be happy. I know you're worried, but if it was something completely terrible we both know that he would have come to you." 

"You're right." 

"I know I am," Jaime said, a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. Dan rolled his eyes at her. 

"You're also so full of yourself." 

"Mhm, sure." 

Dan pinched a few sprinkles in between his fingers and tossed them, hitting Jaime on the forehead. Taken by surprise, she jumped. 

"Oh you're going to regret that, Howell." 

"Oh yeah? Make me." 

Arming herself with both icing tubes, Jaime jumped out of her seat and ran around the table to Dan's side. Dan launched himself out of his own chair and skidding around the table, Jaime following closely behind. Desperate to defend himself, Dan snatched up the packet of gumdrops from the table as he passed and threw them at Jaime. 

However, Dan's aim was bad on his best days, and when trying to hit a moving target behind him while moving himself, it was abysmal. 

Jaime, who was much more fit than Dan in every way, quickly caught up with him. She reached out with her hand and pulled the back of his collar with just enough force to make Dan skid to a stop to avoid being choked. Lightning quick, she put the opening of one of the icing tubes at the base of his neck and  _ squeezed.  _ Icing burst from the tube and went in between Dan's back and his shirt, making Dan whirl around, screeching as he felt it cover his back. He reflexively brought his hands up to the back of his neck, already starting to pull his shirt over his head. Taking advantage of Dan now facing her, Jaime smushed the contents of the spare icing tube all over Dan's face. 

_ "You goddamn bastard!"  _ Dan yelled, his voice high and panicked as he fought to get his shirt up and over his head. The only problem was that all of the icing on the back of Dan's shirt got smeared into his hair as Dan dragged the material over his head. 

When he had finally managed to fling the soiled shirt as far away from him as he could, Dan could only gape in horror as he took in the state of himself. There was icing on his back, his face, in his hair, his hands, on his pants, god the stuff was  _ everywhere.  _

He looked at Jaime helplessly. 

Jaime was hysterical, nearly doubled over in laugher. 

_ Well, there's one way to make this even.  _

Dan closed the distance between them in a single step and spread his arms. Jaime didn't notice until it was too late, her eyes going wide as she realized Dan's plan. Dan wrapped his arms around her in a huge bear hug, wiping all of the icing on the front of his body, arms, and hands on Jaime. She squirmed and tried to get away, but it was too late. 

They were both  _ filthy _ . 

When Dan finally let her go, she was spouting Italian, way too fast for Dan to even try and keep up if he wanted to. None of the few unflattering words he managed to understand could deter his wide smile or snickers, however. 

When Jaime finally stopped her torrent, Dan handed her a towel. 

"Oh, wipe that shit-eating grin off your face,  _ bastardo,  _ I did worse to you." 

"Let me enjoy the victories I can manage to scrounge up, Jaime." 

Dan wiped his face with a towel, getting the worst of the icing off. 

"Something tells me that we won't be finishing this gingerbread house." Dan muttered. He looked around at his kitchen. There was icing smeared at random points of the table and floor, sprinkles, chocolate balls, and other candies were covering the table and spilling onto the tiles. Gumdrops were tossed everywhere in the kitchen, and Dan had a very strong feeling that he would be finding them in the most unsuspecting places for weeks to come. Their gingerbread house was half-finished, sagging due to not being fully supported, and lacking in an artistic vision in general. 

He really could care less, though. This had easily turned out to be his favorite Christmas Eve he had ever spent with Jaime. 

"C'mon Jaime, the person who finds the most gumdrops gets the first shower." 

* * *

 

 

Dan had been more than expecting Phil to show up Christmas morning. Hell, Dan had been the one to suggest his place as their meeting point in the first place. And yeah, he hadn't given Phil a time to show up by, and  _ yeah,  _ he loved the man's company, but  _ jesus christ  _ showing up before noon was torture. Had he really forgotten to tell Phil about Jaime and his tradition of staying up until they literally couldn't? 

Horribly tired, Dan finally disentangled himself from the sheets with the help of Jaime literally pushing him out of the bed. 

"Get him to stop  _ knocking,  _ damnit," she mumbled, already half asleep again. 

It took Dan longer than he cared to admit to get up off the floor and to the front door, but when he opened it he really couldn't be annoyed. Phil was in Christmas pajamas and a santa hat. He had a large bag in his one hand and a  _ massive  _ grin on his face. 

"Merry Christmas, Dan!" Phil shouted. 

_ God, he's such a little kid,  _ Dan thought, but it was adorable more than anything. 

Dan let Phil in, and he plopped his bag on the floor. Phil immediately wrapped Dan in a hug and excitedly kissed him hello. 

"Sorry, you look exhausted. Actually no, I'm not sorry. It's Christmas and I stayed away long enough." He said, the smile on his face never faltering. Phil pressed one more kiss to Dan's lips and pulled away, ignoring Dan's protests. Phil was warm and comfortable, and Dan was tired, sue him. 

"Don't pout, you'll get plenty of me all day. Here, present number one," Phil said, bending down and opening his bag. Dan didn't see any of the contents, but he almost cried from relief at the sight of Phil pulling a large box of doughnuts out of the bag. "I brought breakfast." 

"God, I knew there was a reason why I started dating you." 

Dan opened the lid and easily picked out his favorite with his spare hand. He took a massive bite and moaned in appreciation at the marvels of a simple—yet  _ delicious _ —glazed doughnut. 

"I don't even care if you got me anything else, this is the highlight of my day," Dan mumbled through his mouthful of food. Phil laughed, his eyes doing that cute squinty thing. 

"Well, hopefully your day will just keep getting better. Where's Jaime? I thought she was sleeping over." 

Dan gestured in the general direction of his bedroom with the doughnut. 

"She's still in bed."

"I'll drag her out of bed. What do you think my chances are for survival?" 

"Slim. She's really grumpy that you woke us up and we watched the sunrise this morning." 

Phil hummed in acknowledgment and pressed a kiss to Dan's forehead. 

"In case I meet my untimely demise at the hands of Jaime." 

Dan migrated to the kitchen and sat at his table, which still had traces of icing all over it. He managed to finish his first and second doughnuts by the time Phil surfaced once more. His glasses were askew and his fringe was sticking up in wild directions. His hat was missing and there was a distinct redness to the left side of his face, but he was grinning like a madman. 

"She's coming." 

Phil helped himself to the breakfast he brought, and it was another ten minutes before Jaime appeared. She was wrapped in Dan's duvet and looked extremely disgruntled, but she sat at the table regardless. She narrowed her eyes at Phil as he continued to sunnily eat. 

"I should have hit you with that pillow harder." She grumbled, snatching the doughnut that Phil was eyeing and taking a large bite. 

Dan smiled. Looks like things were just as they normally were. 

 

* * *

 

After their belated breakfast, they all huddled on the couch with the remainder of the doughnuts and a pile of Christmas sweets. Jaime claimed that since she was rudely torn from her bed she got to pick the movie they watched, and they all sat through  _ The Polar Express  _ followed by  _ Elf.  _ All three of them dozed a little in the beginning, but it helped to rid Dan and Jaime of their exhaustion. 

After the two movies they scrolled through Netflix for a bit before they all found a show that they were all watching. After a few episodes, even Dan was admitting that it was time to actually get  _ up.  _ As comfortable as he was nestled in Phil's arms, he was feeling sluggish. 

"Alright boys," Jaime said, stretching as she stood, "it's time for presents, and I'm going first. Dan, be a dear and get what we need, will you? And don't forget one for Phil." 

Ten minutes later, Dan emerged from the kitchen with three massive mugs in his hands. Each one was filled with what he and Jaime had dubbed the Ultimate Hot Chocolate. They were made with the best German chocolate Dan could get his hands on and milk (using water to make hot chocolate was a travesty). Each had a perfect combination of large and small marshmallows, and a swirl of whipped cream covered the surface of the hot chocolate. Overtop the cream was a handful of chocolate sprinkles, and a chocolate wafer was nestled on the side. Their recipe were the best creation Dan had ever made, and ever will make. 

He passed the mugs out, and smiled at Phil's wide eyes and dropped jaw. 

"Just wait until you taste it," Jaime laughed. She used her wafer to scoop a large amount of whipped cream into her mouth. 

"It's a tradition," Dan said, following her. Phil, looking almost out of his depth at the sight of the hot chocolate, copied Jaime and Dan's movements. Jaime cheered with a mouthful of wafer. Dan let himself bask in yet another Christmas hot chocolate masterpiece before he nudged Jaime with his foot. 

"Weren't we promised presents?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Jaime snorted. 

"You're lucky I love you, Howell." 

She left her hot chocolate on the coffee table so she could reach under the plastic tree that she and Dan had set up a week ago. She pulled out three things, tossed one to Phil, and pushed the other two towards Dan. 

"There you go mates, ho ho ho." 

Dan opened the bigger present first, and gasped when he revealed a new Muse sweatshirt. It was from their tour earlier this year. He and Jaime had pooled their cash to get tickets and it had been the  _ best  _ damn concert he'd ever been to. Unfortunately neither of them had had the money to buy any merch after blowing it all to get tickets right in the front. 

"Jaime how did you get this! These are expensive as hell!" Dan asked excitedly, already pulling the jumper over his head. She shrugged. 

"Working over in London in this play has some perks. Open the other one." 

Dan tore away the wrapping paper covering the smaller present. It was a candle about the size of Dan's palm, and it smelled like mangos and peaches. 

"It's a subscription, so every month or so you'll get a new scent in the mail." 

Dan hugged her, nearly spilling his hot chocolate. 

"Thank you Jaime, you always know what to get me." 

When he pulled away he looked over at Phil to see what Jaime had got him, and he smiled to see Phil flipping through the pages of a Stephen King novel. 

Dan passed out his presents next, and Jaime had cheered at her set of hair dyes and bleach. 

"You're dying your hair again, Howell! I have the means and the will!" She crowed. Dan laughed, but covered his curly hair with his hands. The color was still there, but it wasn't as vibrant as before. However, he didn't think that he would be coloring it anytime soon. 

Phil kissed Dan sweetly after unwrapping his new set of patches for his jean jacket and a new controller for his Wii. 

The present Phil had gotten for Jaime was simple yet sweet. It was a new sketchbook and a pack of high-end charcoals. On the inside cover Phil had drawn his own little cartoon, and a little note that read  _ "At least I know you'll be better at this than me"  _ and a smiley face. 

Phil first handed Dan what ended up being a ridiculously comfortable striped sweater. Phil then pressed an envelope into Dan's hands after Dan had thanked Phil up and down for what was probably an expensive gift if it's material felt that  _ nice _ . Kind of confused, Dan opened it to reveal a key inside. 

"It's your own for my apartment. You're over there a lot, and I'm often late. I think we'd both be happier if you didn't have to wait outside just because I have horrible time management. And, this is my way of saying that you can stop by whenever you want. You don't really have to keep texting me to ask anymore." 

Dan tackled Phil in a hug, kissing him out of happiness. 

"Thank you, thank you,  _ thank you so much- _ " 

Phil laughed at Dan's assault, stopping Dan's barrage of kisses by capturing Dan's lips with his own. 

"You're welcome, Dan." 

Growing up, Dan hadn't really enjoyed Christmas too much, or any holiday really. It always involved dressing up and going to his grandparents houses and seeing a ton of family who otherwise didn't really pay attention to him for the rest of the year. When he had been kicked out, Dan had feared that he would never get those holidays with family again. 

But holidays with Jaime had been even better than his younger self could ever have imagined. And now that it was the three of them? Dan couldn't think of anywhere else he'd rather be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!!
> 
> (we'll see if Dan ever talks to Phil about it, huh?)

**Author's Note:**

> Comment, kudos, and feedback is appreciated! Thank you so much for reading!


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